by Dash Crowley (october 2013)
It felt as though hours had passed and though the position of the sun in the sky off to the west had not changed I knew it to be the truth.
She drove. I crawled up into the passengerside frontseat from where I’d been attempting rest in the back. She said nothing. Her gaze was glaring against the road ahead like some transfixed brainwashee and it seemed it would take nothing short of a prybar to coax her attention. I fiddled with the radio knobs. Found only static.
I watched the fat red star hover over the plain as it whipped by the swales of larruping grass along side of us. I wondered if perhaps it would show us the way out.
There came a point where the macadam began to fade to dirt and cruel cassocks of grime and grass and we…
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