The alarm clock bleats at 4:45 a.m. and a hand reaches to silence the noise. It’s still pitch black outside. A silhouette pulls himself from the comfort of his bed, stretching to relieve his sore muscles.
Careful not to wake his wife, he gently kisses her forehead.
He quietly walks past the rooms of his children. He won’t be able to see them off; but, if he’s lucky, he’ll snag a hug before bedtime.
It’s muggy outside. Even with no sunlight, the hot St. Louis air is thick. Justin climbs inside a hollowed metal shell, a moving truck, puts a cold bottle of water in the cup holder next to a bottle of ibuprofen. He turns the key and the engine roars to life.
As he pulls away, he passes house after house blanketed in sleep. Hardly anyone is awake this early, but for Justin, it’s by choice.
Justin is his own boss, putting in 60+ hours a week at his small moving company. But life wasn’t always like this – moving forward. Not too long ago, Justin watched as his life came to a screeching halt, threatening to take away everything he held dear.
As Justin arrives at his destination, the sun starts to crest the trees. Although pretty now, the early sunrise will prove to make the day that much longer and hotter.
A young but weathered pair of hands pushes up the rear door. It screams, echoing throughout the empty inside. In a few hours, this truck will be filled with the entire contents of someone’s life to be hauled off to the next adventure.