I WAS ON my way back from a beach run (sidenote “cold, windy and wet beach run” is kinda an oxymoron, no?) last week when I looked up and saw it. There. In the vast emptiness (evidently only a Canadian in Florida would attempt a run in these conditions), against a background of sand, sea and sky blurring together, an abandoned toy wagon. The great escape, I thought to myself. And I couldn’t help but think that it was perfectly symbolic for my life right now.