I was late for breakfast last Sunday.
I get together with three friends, on Sunday morning, to enjoy breakfast at a local restaurant.
On Sunday, I needed gas. There’s a gas station at the foot of the hill I live on. (Most of us, here in the Monongahela Valley, live on hills.)
The station has ten pumps.
Last Sunday, three of them were working.
People had been filling up, before gas became unaffordable. Meanwhile gas was getting harder to come by, thanks to Trump’s adventures in Iran. We can look forward to long lines and shortages again.
One of the friends I meet for breakfast works at the Carnegie Museum. She teaches classes for kids there, including a class for children who are learning English as a second language.
Six of her students have been deported.
The museum is talking about shutting down the class.
Just another Sunday in Trump’s America, where prices rise and innocents are imprisoned.
While the good and decent among us hope and pray for regime change.