Chester, VA, south of Richmond. I’m delivering at one of those over-thought places. They took my keys but don’t want me in the truck. They provided a breakroom, but were surprised that I didn’t want to sit in a 8′ x 5′ box that smelled like an ashtray. So I’m sitting outside in the cold at a picnic table, wondering how long it’s going to take these heifers to get off of break and unload my truck. I’m not mad and I’m not bitching. I just want to be unloaded so I can move on. I hope this doesn’t take too long. Oh, well. In the meantime I’ll just sit out here and look at the trees and feel the breeze. Somewhere beyond that treeline lies tomorrow.