"You are running late, always running late to pick up the older one at daycare, and it is five dollars for every minute passed 6:00pm. Which is already late enough as it is, but there you are again, trying to do one last thing in the office, missing a train, sitting on a train, stopping to buy the kid a snack at the scary bodega on Division, and running through the rain to not be late.
Because you are so close, the watch reading, 5:55, then 5:56, suddenly 5:58, but you are at the door now, buzzing and bursting in, where it is so quiet that it’s not clear to you whether any children are still there at all.
Then you see them, a group of kids and the teacher, the young guy, all of them fresh-faced and sweaty, sitting in a big group, leaning forward and intently looking at something.
You slow down, you try to catch your breath, and you tell yourself that it’s okay, everything will be okay.
You walk up to see what everyone is looking at.