Sandstorm

Exhausted after an 11 hour shift made me so eager to head back home. I was not over my son’s tearful goodbye the other day hence, regretted not bringing the car as I would have gotten home sooner.   My daughter’s birthday was forthcoming -- reason why I decided against it, as the money supposedly for gas, can be saved for a little surprise for the said occasion . So here I was walking, almost hopping, my bag and arms swinging, whistling a happy tune – when this humongous bus raced by me and summoned a “sand blast.” “F_ _ T!” I shouted. I got sand all over my already oily face, my hair, and even my mouth (I was whistling remember?). The first thought that came to mind – Was that breakfast?