Waiting for the Morning

     Tonight I am sitting inside a Minneapolis train station as a blizzard rages across the Minnesota sky and I am not dressed for it.  I inwardly curse myself for not having grabbed my parka or snow boots before leaving the house two months ago.  Mother's words and her actions slammed me so senseless that I did not stop to think about the weather.  I merely grabbed a few belongings before stepping out of the door.  Tonight I sit on this hardwood bench because the concrete flooring is too muddy, too wet and much too cold for me to stretch upon.  I am waiting for the morning because tomorrow is my birthday.  Tomorrow I will be 14 years old.  Tomorrow the blizzard will have passed and I believe that life is somehow better for a 14 year old.  However, tonight I am shivering cold, I am frightened and I am still 13 years old.