Three o’clock in the morning; nearing the end of spring.

The car is loaded; the cooler is packed; the fuel has been purchased.

I linger; temporarily embracing this moist evening with the cigarette I had lit while the police were opening their doors to pull over a red truck, beside the church in front of my dad’s house. Why rush out? Surely this is more entertaining than that next five minutes would have been if I was driving through the rest of this old town just a few minutes earlier.

People rip on this microcosm of ours.

But honestly – it’s pretty sweet.

We’ve got it pretty good here; all but for the economy that constantly fucks us brutally in the rectal region and into our souls. If you can’t see that; then you’re missing something.

Travel arrangements were work related, not pleasure; but incredibly pleasurable nonetheless. It’s unfortunate that many of our generation don’t  have the manufacturing jobs that built this part of the world; that they simply don’t exist for us any more.

Many of us have to leave in order to support ourselves and our families. Yeah… I’m sure some people want to leave; but I’d bet many of us would choose to stay; provided we could financially do so.

Not the point… sorry for rambling.

_____________________________________________________________

I turn on the engine of my grey Chevy Cavalier to embark on a solo trek; 2/3 of the way across the continent.

_______
___________

Part Two

______________________
_____________
_____