I circle for twenty minutes; my buffer ticking down on the dash. Your words echo in my head admonishing me to not take the toll bridge. But all I see is the damn toll bridge and my GPS won’t reroute. All these roads are unfamiliar: steep neighborhood hills and roundabouts that no one seems to know how to navigate. I have no choice – I take the toll bridge.
An eye on the clock, my exit approaches, and I’m winding up more impossible hills, the city on full display across the water. I’m doubtful; I suspect my GPS has misled me again as I’m instructed to take one more right turn. Supposedly my destination lies just ahead.
Then I feel it as I see the wooden sign announcing the school. Emotion rushes through me so unexpectedly, I let out a little breath of “oh.”
I know I am exactly where I was meant to be.