Street Streaks

So, the leonid meteor storm. I woke up at 2am when my alarm clock went off, held a five-minute debate with my sleepier half, got dressed and drove north, away from the city lights.
It was a gathering of sorts. About ten to fifteen cars parked at the northernmost part of Campbell Ave, looking down upon the more populated parts of Tucson. Some sat on chairs and garden benches the more adventurous ones brought along, and the occasional thermos flask of coffee was passed around. Wrapped in blankets, the bunch of us looked like homeless car owners waiting for scraps to fall out of the sky.
Cries of "oooh that was a good one" punctuated the silence every now and then. There was one particular camper who screamed "I saw one! I saw one!" as her companions slowly and stealthily walked away, disassociating themselves with her. "No, you don't understand, I've never seen a shooting star in my life!" Too late. They were too far up the road. Somewhere, someone in another SUV (Sports Utility Vehicle) group muttered, "Pampered girl, that one".
It was a nice time standing alone in the dark, casually observing the people around me even as I gazed skyward, as we all were.
A thousand wishes were made. We, the homeless vehicle owners of Arizona, stood that night in hope that every one would come true.

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