Cash and Carry.

Hush went the wind as we wove deeper and deeper around bends of road, curved live a stream frozen by a winter storm. I was cold too. No blanket or warm embrace warm enough to keep these bones from shivering with guilt, fear, and anticipation. This time felt different.

The split was fast to approach as we made our get away, right or left?. Every note of animal whispers felt like a rising siren in the distance. My mouth was dry.

I corrected the rear-view…hoping that it would give me that edge I needed when it came time to pull that lead out of my pocket and defend my right to hold on to the last threads of reality I have keeping me tethered to this place.

But not yet. I push harder. Put that old busted up Converse through the floor. Pedal. Metal.

I’ve looked for salvation in so many places I feel that I’ve retread some of them dozens of times. One so caught up in the minutiae of my existence I have started feeling like a shattered mirror.

Reaching up, I re-adjust the rear-view again.

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