Note: Written Nov 6, 2010.
My house is a subdued but cheerful yellow, with brick pillars on the front porch. It is at the second speedbump, coming from either direction. If you go east, a fifteen minute walk takes you to this intersection.
I thought that "Fifteen Minutes from Freedom" sounded like a great name--for a house, a story, a poem, or whatever else. As far as a place to live, it's pretty nice. The house is comfortable, large, and clean. Rather fancy, actually. I am about half an hour away from the Aquarium, ten minutes from the grocery store, and less than an hour and a half from school no matter how late the bus is running).
But all of that stands to change. A week ago I bought a car. Soon, Atlanta will shrink! Previously inaccessible areas of the city will open to my exploring headlights! I will travel to other cities, visit the temples in Birmingham and Nashville! I will shop and date and be on time for my 8am classes! Okay, maybe not that last one. But the possibilities are practically endless. Soon.
The feeling of "Fifteen Minutes from Freedom" also describes my current mobility. I have a car. As soon as the title comes in the mail I will be able to go get the vehicle registered. Then I will have a license plate. Then I will be able to drive. Until then, my Corolla is the silver color of possibility, a sleek spaceship parked aesthetically behind the house. When it becomes the silver of currency, of roller skates strapped firmly to my feet, the silver of "Hi Ho" lone ranger fame, Freedom will be much closer than fifteen minutes.
