the whole neighborhood is drinking cold cans of mexican beer and listening to jessica lea mayfield with the windows open, everyone is ignoring laundry heaped in the basket, leaving on the too-tight shoes that leave red creases in their heels.
over three hours of driving for one meeting today, but i am good at long drives by now. zipped up my laptop bag and waved goodbye through the glass doors, texting summary notes to my boss. in thirty-five feet, your destination is on the right, a dusty turnaround on a frontage road, finally a front-row spot to park my gnat-spotted car. cashiers compliment my purple hair. i waited, hands clasped, under a blue door and an exit sign duct-taped to the wall. continue on this road for seventy miles. ate greek fries out of the paper sack with one hand, steered straight and steady with the other, sang along with the wind rushing in.