Good morning, everybody.
It was night. I was driving through some suburban area by myself. I was probably driving to my family's house. I may have been living at my family's house at the time.
As I slowed down to park at the curb in front of my family's house, I passed a few houses. All the houses had almost all their lights off. Only a few lonely glimmers shone from the houses.
I knew that one of the houses was the house of somebody I'd spoken with over the phone as a part of my work. I knew that the man I'd spoken with had been in the military.
I remarked to myself, as I pulled my car to a stop, then backed it up a bit to get parallel with the curb, that it was strange how far away I thought the people were who I spoke with at work, but how close they really were. This was a little eerie and unsettling to me. Something about the man being in the military also unsettled me.
I was reading something about John Quincy Adams. But I can't remember what.