Trapped | Rush Hour. Magic Hour.
It's been a long day of shooting and I'm trying to get home. I call to say it shouldn't be too long... Then I call 40 minutes later to tell them I'm now three blocks further from where I was. The city is gridlocked; dinner ain't happening.
I still have space on one of my cards and my camera bag is right there on the passenger seat. What the hell: I'm trapped but I'm smiling — at least 'til the lights go out.