Interstate Scene 4: Lose enough faith, and you might forget how to live.
Interstate Scene 3: Some Americans like to tie a pair of shoes together and toss them at a power line or a tree branch until they catch and hang.
Interstate Scene 2: When she was a little girl, she would watch the darkness in her bedroom.
Interstate Scene 1: Maybe you’ve heard the stories, the baroque theories on late-night radio or the soliloquies of sunburnt men who mutter at the traffic.
The longest day of the year, and, thank god, soon we’ll be making more night. This journal will become a halfway house for homeless paragraphs from the stories I’m writing.
Sunset: 9:02pm. The weather lady looked a little freaked out tonight as she stood before a map soaked in neon red.
You can never see further than your headlights: this old slice of trucker philosophy makes more sense to me with each passing year.
