As I sit here looking out the window of a McDonald’s I find myself watching a young man walking away with a guitar enclosed within a nylon case that is balanced up over his shoulder. His left hand is extended up and holding the end of it to keep it balanced. On his back is a small black and blue pack that looks as if it holds the rest of his worldly possessions.

His clothes are stained but don’t look tattered. In his right hand he is carrying a small cup that McDonald’s hands out for free whenever asks for water. The straw sticks straight up, almost as if mirroring his posture and state of mind.

It is a Thursday afternoon and by the looks of it he has somewhere to be. Where, I do not know. Why, I cannot begin to presume.

I catch the motion of my own reflection in the window I have looking out of. I see an overweight middle aged man slouching in his McBooth. I look out into the parking lot again and see my parked car. The instrument of my means of mobility and freedom is but a facade. I can’t just walk away from it all, I have a family, a job, responsibilities.

I am trapped.