Here and Now

Drip. Drop. Drip drip drip.

God, he was going to have to turn on his windshield wipers, though his battery was already dangerously low, sitting there in the parking lot, waiting.

For the beginning or the end.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have results….” The voice crackled over the radio as the rain began to wash over the windshield. He remembered she had told him that when her president had finally been elected that fateful day, the skies blackened and there was such a fierce thunderstorm her students had aptly asked, “is this the end of the world?”

He prayed the rain did not presage similar results for his country. They had fought to preserve and protect and make their voices heard – SHE, the one he was waiting for and had long followed (how he had envied his brother that picture with her!) -  SHE was one of them and had fought along with them and he knew in his heart, she was the one who could turn things around and return his country to its original greatness.

Though he loved it now, make no mistake – he would not live anywhere else – (she sometimes tired of reading how great his country was when she lived in the most powerful one, but she had to admit she loved his country too) - but this one, this one that captivated him, she knew what was needed, what to preserve and protect, what to genuinely fight for and what to back away from or stand up against.

The dashboard lights began to blink. Reluctantly he turned on the car engine, hoping no one would notice he had been sitting there for an hour, but it was the only radio he had and he wasn’t leaving until he knew.

Finally – thank you George!  – it was announced. He sent the text though he knew she’d be sleeping, and shouted a great woop from the confines of his Honda Fit, before driving into the here and now, rain be damned. 

Jasmin Webb