I walked up the parking lot to our car. I was trying hard not to feel trapped by everything, by life, but I did. I didn’t see how else I could feel. A cattle truck was parked across the road at a small gas station. A single steer in the back of the truck lowed over and over.
I said, “Tell me about it.”
Our car was fine, locked and safe. I looked at all of Gloria’s stuff filling the backseat. I looked at the cattle truck. There wasn’t anything to do but go back to the room.
For most of people, most of the time, options are obscured by emotions, and there really isn’t anything else to do but go back to the room to face whatever evil and unpleasant—or sometimes joyful and ecstatic!—fate is waiting.