Man, the sun is hot. I’ve been marching forever, or so it seems. This sign is weighing heavy on my shoulder, but my arms are too, too tired to hold it upright any longer.
Still, gotta march, gotta march, gotta have the sign where folks can see it. It’s important to be here, to show that my one body is part of a bigger whole, a whole that will not back down to their greed. And there’s a whole lot of whole here with me.
The thought lifts my spirits and my arms. Renewed energy scampers through me and next thing I know, I’m raising my sign higher than any of ‘em, my footsteps losing their shuffle, becoming an honest to goodness march.
The triple chocolate double mocha I had about fifteen minutes ago doesn’t hurt, either.