The commute

Published 10:03 pm Tuesday, March 6, 2012

His radio alarm broke the morning silence. “WLTP, where life takes place! Top o’ the morning to….”

Jake rolled over and let the slow process of awaking wash over his body.

“Now here’s Ric with traffic and weather…”

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He savored the last few minutes of his warm cocoon of blankets before making the trek to his first destination every morning.

“It’s a mess out there folks. An accident on the high-rise bridge has east-bound traffic on 64 backed up for three miles…”

Jake looked in the mirror and rubbed his eyes as the traffic report resonated from down the hall.

“…the construction on High Street is blocking the left-hand lane…”

He returned, slipped on his jeans and flannel shirt and sauntered off to the breakfast table.

“…accidents in the Downtown Tunnel are blocking lanes in both directions. Take the Midtown if possible…”

The brown liquid that offered no attraction in early years had now become essential to his existence. That first cup of coffee served to jump-start the day’s engine for what lie ahead.

“… a six mile back-up at the Monitor-Merrimac has traffic at a standstill, with wreckers trying to get to the scene….”

Jake glanced out the window, watching the cattle graze. Hopefully, the ground was dry enough to start discing the Milton field. It was shaping up to be a late spring.

“… be careful out there. An overturned tractor-trailer has rescue units on the scene. Police hope to have the area cleared by early afternoon, while detours are advised around Emerson and Battle Creek. Figure on a two-hour delay…”

He set the empty cup in the sink and sat down to lace his boots. Slipping on his cap, he took his jacket off the hook and stepped off the back step. His boot came to rest on firm ground. His commute was over.

“…. the Hamilton Street Bridge will be raised at 9:30 a.m. Drivers are advised…”