The day dawned chill and blustery, the kind of gray day that makes you want to sleep late and sip hot cocoa over an unhurried breakfast. But that wasn't a luxury this day afforded. Dressing as quickly as my not-quite-ill-but-not-quite-right body would allow, I reviewed my choices, checked names, reread amendments.
And then I was off.
The line at the school was lengthy long before I arrived at 8:30 a.m., stretching out the door and around the parking lot for nearly a quarter of a mile. The people in line were quiet, mostly bundled against the cold and damp that the wind kept whipping against their faces. A slow shuffling rippled through the line occasionally, giving hope to the faint of heart. I added myself to the end, preparing myself to practice a cheerful spirit.
An hour passed. I had reached the canopy, a very slight protection from the mist, and a small victory of sorts. My stomach clenched as the condition from earlier emphasized itself. But I would not leave the line. My task was too important to be interrupted for any reason.
One and a half hours. I could see the tiny cubicles which were my destination. Sorting us, the workers shuffled the lines to verify our identities. Confirmed in who I was, I proceeded...right, away from my goal. A very long line yet awaited me down a stretch of hallway unseen until now. The line reached to the doors at the opposite end of the hall, though no one was exiting. As each face rounded that corner, it fell, realizing that the wait was not over.
Two hours, fifteen minutes. A slight motion from a seated woman told me that my moment had come. Now was my chance, a culmination of hours of attempted indoctrination, of research, of conversations and contemplations.
It was finally my turn to cast my vote.
A few minutes to review, to be sure I had marked all that I intended, and it was done. My hours had been redeemed, my voice had been expressed.
As I strode out the doors, I placed myself in another line, the line to the throne of God. Having done my part, I cast the outcome, the blessings and the cursings, before that holy throne, returning to my walk of faith down the sidewalk of an elementary school.