10:30am. Five-minute walk to the polling center. Sunny, but cold. Two waving campaign workers, two opposing signs. Elementary school gym. Old man in a wheelchair pushed by an aide. People who ducked out from jobs nearby. Two election workers at a folding table. My address, my name, my ballot. Black markers to fill in the circles. Short line to sign out. My address, my name, my ballot fed into the slot. A rush of joy.