My home was a long way off but a short ride ahead as I squinted through the haze of my long overdue windshield that bore little resemblance to the scene passing through the story of the ride that I was imagining.
Yes indeed...it was the unmistakable call of the retched jackrabbit virgin .... drunk on too much disco and wearing the night air like cascading crescendos of mocking Mojave River moonlight.
No time for even the thought of a breath as the headlights bobbed briefly on the asphalt moguls insidiously spaced in increasingly madding swaths across the desert tundra.
Faster I screamed at the driver I hoped was not me...faster I say...will this ride never end?
And so it did and did not .... simultaneously taking me and leaving me upon the far off doorstep of another bid to reach the beginning of my end.
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2 comments:
Ahhhh a fine tribute to Lance.
Is he in yellow yet?
I think I met that guy.....
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