fifty-five days and more

Driving down the mountain highway, he wears a big grin. Melodies of God’s love are filling the car. The highway twists and turns, the weather outside is crisp, a thick layer of freshly fallen snow covers the landscape. Around one bend, and another, the city bobs in and out of view as the car goes up and over the hills. With the onramp to the free way just past this traffic light, he impatiently creeps into the intersection. Red, yellow, green, go. Pulling onto the freeway the car accelerates as fast as it can, and he merges onto the Autostrada, the sign reads “Krakow international airport