(text-style:"italic","sway")[//"Goin' where I've never been
So take me to the highway
Take me far from here."//]
''August, 1971''
Tinny rock music blares out of your car radio, echoing across the desert expanse: nothing for the sound to bounce off of except for the occasional cactus.
It's sandstone, dust, and dirt everywhere you look, wind worn and desolate. Large dust clouds rise up, making the sky a grimy blue.
Brushland to the left, and miles of canyons to your right - almost like a foreign planet. Except you know where you are.
You're on US Route 160, a massive stretch of concrete spanning east to west with almost nothing in between. You could say it's like a head without a brain - everything's just swimming in the middle, floating in and out.
[[It's fucking sweltering]]Taking your eyes off the long stretch of asphalt, you take in what seems to be the remains of sandstone canyons on your left. Stretching for miles on end, the wind-worn standstone formations look like piles of dried mud, some lopsided and rough, others tall and spindly, standing tall and casting long shadows on the dirt.
It's odd - you don't know jack shit about rocks but something seems off about the structures. Sort of feels like another planet. You were never good at school but, maybe a planet like Mars? Yeah Mars.
The radio crackles with static:
//Valerie -- Valerie pay attention --are you even listening?-- I'll only say this once-- //
The sound makes you jump, the wheel swerving slightly to the right before you gain control.
No one ever calls you Valerie except... you had a high school science teacher once, real prickly sour woman who refused to call you "Val." She never liked you, never saw anything in you. It's not surprising her science class was the last one you took.
[[The Past]]This is the first real barren desert road you've been on. You've heard of the different animals that live around here - snakes, scorpions, spiders.
There's a little twinge of excitement that creeps up along the back of your neck, from a place long and forgotten. You can't resist taking a quick peek out the window:
The desert paints a vast canvas of tan, beige, oranges and browns. It's tough to pick out any animals amongst the rocks and debris. Movement along the road catches your eye.
A lone roadrunner - mahogany and white dappled wings and long gangly legs - shooting off like a bullet down the highway. You try to track its movements - even consider racing it - but it disappears in a gust of sand.
[[The Roadrunner]]You don't want anything to do with the desert - fuck the rocks, fuck the heat, and fuck whatever stupid-ass animals that have the audacity to live in the middle of a colassal dirty sand box.
Anger sears through your veins like fire catching kindling. It makes you grit your teeth, tightening your hands around the worn leather of the wheel as you punch the accelerator. Your car obeys with a groan, pulling forward, faster down the highway.
You never could stay in one place could you? Mama's been dead in the ground for over a decade now but you can still hear her tired voice in your head, echoing off the trees near the back porch:
//Val get back here! You are nothin' but trouble. Every day you cause me grief I lose a year of my life."//
Lord only knows just how right she was.
[[Mama]]
You take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts and focusing back on the road. You saw a sign for... something a few hours up ahead. The sign was too faded to tell - hopefully a gas station. You just have to get there.
[[Drive through the morning]]Minutes turn into hours on the road. No sign of civilization to be seen. Road signs are fading then faded then just completely gone. Radio's only tuning to static.
[[Drive through the afternoon]]What is that noise--
Oh shit, it's the tires--
You realize a second too late
Your eyes fluttered shut
It was only a second
The brief peace caused your body to relax
Your grip lightened on the wheel
Elaine swerves uncontrollably to the left
You're smashed against the driver's side door
A slab of sandstone fills your vision
You press the brake
It's not enough
The impact is deafening
High-pitched squealing
Maybe screams
Maybe yours
Glass shatters
You fly forward
Forward
Forward
Pain
Pain
Pain
//Tired//
//The whisper of a condescending voice through the clamor://
[[*"LIGHTS OUT MY DEAR"*]]
Just one moment... to let your eyes rest... it's been so long... too long... you'll be fine if you just... shut... your... eyes...
*[[SCREECHHHH!]]*You feel your eyelids getting heavier but you steel yourself.
You can't fall asleep. Not now. You have to find somewhere to stop.
You feel panic start to ooze in the pit of your stomach but brush it aside.
It's not quite dark yet. You take one last scan of the road signs.
...nothing..
...nothing...
...Oh shit...
[[WAIT!]] The tires squeal as your foot smashes on the break instinctually. You stop right in front of a faded, wind-beaten roadsign. It's so badly battered that you can't read the sign from your car.
You carefully step out of your car, leaving the keys in the ignition. Hiking up your dress, you take a couple of small steps closer. Squinting, you make out a few words:
(text-style:"fade-in-out")[//"----Diner - 3 mi----right side-- look for-- snakestone-- //]
The pit in your stomach subsides slightly. Finally a sign of life. You don't know anything about a "snakestone" but you've made it this far. You can figure it out.
[[Keep driving]]You continue driving down the road, keeping an eye out for any signs of life. Everything seems untouched by mankind, no hoof prints or foot prints or boot prints or anything.
You spy what looks like a mountain of some sort - right on the horizon.
The mountain gets bigger, extending across your windshield in record time.
You begin to slow down.
Wait... that's not a mountain... it's not possible.
You slow to a crawl, and then a complete stop in front of a
[[GARGANTUAN STONE STRUCTURE]] The thoughts come rushing into the forefront of your consciousness like a waterfall.
(text-style:"bold","smear","expand","shudder")["You've finally thrown your life away."
"Good riddance"
"That man was better off without you"
"What did you think you could offer him?"
"You didn't even love him"
"You sinner"
"You harlot"
"No wonder your mother died"
"And the one person who ever saw anything in you"
"You left them in the rearview"
"She probably wants you to rot in hell like the others do--"]
[[Panic]]Your vision blurs, everything twisting into itself. You're having trouble catching your breath, your lungs only allowing for short, gasping breaths.
Your doctor always said that you brain was broken somehow. "Too prone to stress and ruin" they told your mother, as you sat in a desk chair, too small for your feet to touch the floor. Too young to understand.
Your hands are on the wheel but your world is spinning - that familiar feeling of panic washing over you like an old enemy.
Spoiled milk gone sour.
The walls of the car are crumpling in on you, you're sure of it. There's no space to move, to breathe, to exist. You feel yourself crumbling, the walls of your existence turning to dust, and floating up, up, above your body.
[[Float]][[No Mama, I'm scared... I don't want to go... I don't want you to go...]]Your mother's voice fades away, pulling you under the dark turbulent waters in between consciousness and... something else.
It feels like being tossed from wave to wave, unable to swim, only able to float then sink. Fortune's favor to the wild chaotic beast that has you in its maw.
You thought there was supposed to be a light right about now. Some sort of holy sign. This just feels like drowning.
//"Honey, make up your mind--"// - Another voice. Her voice.
She used to call you Honey. Except right before you left. You, standing behind a tiny one-room church at the edge of a town you've known your whole life. Choking in a white lace gown, wearing a corset of lies, tightened by society's dainty little rose gold ribbons.
You were going to marry him.
Your world always revolved around him.
But then you met her.
The laws of the universe no longer applied.
[[WAKE UP]]There's a piercing ringing in your ears.
The metal is cold on your skin.
You taste something wet and metallic in your mouth. Copper.
Your eyelids are heavy, 5,000 pounds of metal attached to the tips.
Something is dripping down your temple. Rain?
Oh god.
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Tearing through your body, setting your nerve endings on fire.
Other areas are numb. Dangerously, disastrously numb.
[[Darkness]]The structure defies gravity.
Sitting on the sand is a pile of stones, all of them balancing precariously to form a triangular structure.
The triangle is a base for a curved piece of sandstone that twists like the body of a snake, the head pointing straight up at the sky.
The road seems to end here, the asphalt buried by a blanket of sand. Or maybe there was never any road here at all?
That's not possible.
Isn't it impossible?
You can't wrap your head around it.
This might just be the "snakestone." But there are no tire tracks to be found. No sign, no lights.
[[Take a right]]With a sense of caution turned to curiosity, you take a hard right, driving across the desert sand.
You hear the sand being chewed up and spit out of the tires, Elaine groaning as she ambles over the unsteady ground.
You beat back the negative thoughts scrambling for purchase in your mind.
A mile or so with nothing but sand.
Another mile. The sun is gone.
Another mile. You feel stupid now.
Another mile... Wait.
A light.
Neon and metal.
A sign.
You've found it.
[[Park]]You feel wild.
Hiking up your wedding dress at the entrance of a diner that shouldn't exist.
Bell on the door.
Worn paint, scuffed floors.
Gospel song on the jukebox.
Two employees. A cook and a waitress.
No other customers. Just you.
"Cup of coffee?" The waitress asks. She's blonde, with streaks of strawberry in her hair. Blue eyes. Freckles across the nose. Scar on her lip.
You pause.
She tilts her head.
You nod.
Sit at the bar.
The coffee is liquid tar that sinks heavily in your stomach.
You should probably ask where you are.
Why nothing makes sense.
Instead you ask for a second cup.
The cook walks over, leans over the counter. Smiles at you. Brown hair, tousled. Shadow of stubble. Grey eyes with a hint of blue. Nose a little crooked. Cowlick where a hat should be.
//"You know what would make that coffee even better?"//
[["Honey?"]]
[["You?"]]You met Him in the evening.
At a diner.
On Mulberry street.
In the middle of May.
He wasn't the cook.
But he was there.
In 100 degree heat
In his three-piece suit.
Reading his Bible.
Like he owned the place.
In some ways he did.
He was rich with God-given faith.
You sat at the bar.
The coffee was bitter.
He smiles at you.
Says he'd seen you at church.
He makes you queasy.
His sermons are like poison.
Every careful word kills you inside.
He sits with you.
Orders you something you don't like.
The dread bubbles up like black ooze.
Your Mama would have loved him.
You force a smile.
It feels wrong.
But you can fake it right.
[["Can I get you something else?"]]You didn't mean to say that.
He squints, confused. Hair falls in front of his face.
You crush your fingers into fists. Look down.
Awkward silence and bated breath.
You hear a sigh, heavyfootsteps heading to the back.
You crumple on the counter. Anxiety keeps your fists clenched.
A quiet giggle to your left.
A soft thump to your right.
You look up.
Red nails on a half-empty honey bear bottle.
It's Her.
She has stars in her eyes.
A crooked little curved blade of a smile that gouges your insides.
Something mischievous.
Something terrifyingly curious.
Something achingly familar.
[[Another life]]
He chuckles, brushes the hair out of his face.
//"Alright, you got me. Knew you would."//
His eyes gleam with humor. Curiosity. You shrink back inside yourself.
Something clicks. A thought unlocks.
You're struck with a sense of deja vu.
This.
This is how it started.
[[The Memory]]You remember the diner.
Down the street from your Church.
The night you met Him.
She wasn't there.
But she's here now.
It's not Her.
But it feels the same.
She looks you over.
Her smile fades.
You catch her eye.
She looks away, red creeping up her cheeks.
Nails clacking on the countertop.
You look down.
Shit.
The wedding dress.
The ring on your finger.
You blurt: //"I'm not married!"//
She looks back, Eyebrows raised. You cringe.
A laugh like church bells ringing through the open air.
She always laughed when you did something strange.
It felt kind.
It feels good.
Sticky warmth like molasses in a pecan pie.
The comfort makes you freeze.
The thought hits you like a bullet.
She called you Honey on days you wished would never end.
How could you?
You don't know where you are.
You don't know where she is.
You could have taken her with you.
You should have been brave.
[["Can I get you something else?"]] You're violently yanked out of your thoughts, looking into the faces of two people who suddenly look nothing like the ghosts in your mind.
You shake your head jerkily.
//"Can you tell me where I am?"//
The waitress pipes up, her voice scratchy, tired, hopeless. Nothing like hers.
//"You're right off Route 160, headed towards Colorado. The road's a straightshot."//
That can't be right.
//"There was a... snake in the middle of the road. Nothing but desert."//
Her face shifts, something between scorn and pity lacing her features.
//"That's what happens when you run. The road ends for you where He wants it to."//
A possessive hand on your shoulder.
//"If Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, so are we."//
[[Turn Around]]You dart back to your car, stumbling in the desert sand. Foot on the ignition, you floor it.
The neon lights of the diner fade behind you, the car careening from side to side from the frenetic pace.
You make it back to highway 160. The snake-like structure still stands tall.
You swear the snake hisses at you.
You tamp down the urge to hiss back.
You might be losing your mind.
A reckless abandon takes over you.
You can keep driving down a Hell of your own making.
Or you can go back home and make things right.
[[You can't]]
[[Go back]]You can't run away from this. It's too painful. It's too important.
You swerve the car around and take a breath.
Time to go back.
[[Punisher]]
You can't turn around.
The idea of facing everyone.
Of facing Him.
Of facing Her.
It burns into your skin and chars every nerve ending you have.
She would never forgive you for running away.
For leaving her behind like an afterthought.
You made the right choice.
The safer choice.
You protected her.
You're a damned fool.
Two lies don't change the truth.
The dam breaks.
Thoughts flow like a river, flooding everything in sight.
You can't catch your breath.
You can only see desert but you swear you're drowning--
[[Ruminate on the past]] You wake up drowning in sweat.
The piercing metallic clang of the alarm clock cuts through the air.
You slap the alarm quiet.
It felt so real.
But you're still here.
Pale blue walls
Worn twin bed.
Thick summer heat.
Cicadas in the yard.
You're getting married today.
You swallow hard.
You're lying to yourself today.
You see open highway, a crooked grin.
Holding hands between the front seats.
You exhale.
Your life begins today.
ENDING 3
[[U.S. Route 160]] [[Time Slows]]You drive all night, wasting no time.
You finally make it back.
Familiar dirt roads.
Wooden crosses in yards.
It's raining today.
Barely anyone on the street.
You find her on the road, not far into town.
She's face down in the mud, the rain soaking through her dress.
She could almost be sleeping.
Through your grief-addled mind you almost believe it.
There are bruises on her wrists and ankles.
A macabre painting of black and blue up her forearms and around her neck.
They gave her hell.
She gave it back.
Everybody knows.
Everybody knows.
You collapse in the mud, shivering in the rain.
You don't know what to do, what to think, who to be, how to be.
She was always so brash.
She was never good at playing pretend.
She was alone when it happened.
You were on the road, sipping coffee with a pale imitation.
The world is cruel.
She's in the mud.
You were too late.
ENDING 2
[[U.S. Route 160]] (text-style:"shadow","fade-in-out")[''U.S. Route 160'']
Made by Sangita Nuli - contact me or send me anything at sangitanuli7@gmail.com!
Logline:
A runaway bride is forced to confront her deepest desires as she flees the demons of her dangerously religious hometown and considers what - and who - she left behind.
Content Warning: Horror, Homophobia, Character Death, Violence, Blood, Injury, Gore, Religious Homophobia, Anxiety, Depression, Disassociation, Complusive Heteronormativity
This game is fictional but the trauma endured is all too real.
Donate to the cause:
https://southernequality.org/
[[Start Again.]]School was hard.
Prayers in the morning.
Homework in the evenings.
Looking out classroom windows.
Dead grass and a rusty swingset.
Faded billboards said the end is near.
Call 1-800-JESUS for absolution.
You had a few friends for a year.
They all got picked up before you did.
You didn't mind waiting outside.
For your Mama's busted-up Cadillac.
It gave you time to try and understand your feelings.
Why you always liked girls the way you should have liked boys.
No one stuck around long enough for you to learn why.
Everyone knew why except you.
Your teachers saw it too.
Put you in the naughty desk at the back of the room.
Had you stay after school.
Write down bible verses until your hands bruised.
Were you a child of God?
Or a spawn of the Devil?
Did you deserve love?
Were you already too far gone?
You were so confused and no one would soothe you.
You were 16 when your Mama pulled you out of school.
Not one person questioned how it would change your future.
You didn't mind scrubbing floors and kitchen counters so your Mama could keep her housekeeping job.
You didn't want to learn about tornados.
You wanted to chase them.
[[Back to the road]] You drive for another stretch of time, imagining what it would be like to run because you wanted to, not because you had to. The hopeful thought is cut off by a dark patch coming up in the opposite lane. Something solid, but with a puddle around it.
It takes you a moment to register - crushed white and mahogany wings, splattered with blood and grisle.
You stop on impulse - the faint fleeting thought that you could save the thing.
The neck of the bird is brutally detached, head splayed at an odd angle.
The beak and eyes tilted up.
Feet are straight in the air, still twitching.
It's little chest pushes for air.
Its eyes land on you and stick.
You feel useless.
Limited movement in your lace straightjacket.
Only a witness to the loss of something so innocent.
A shiver runs down your spine.
You can't help but feel kinship with it.
Struck down by some random freak accident.
Never had a chance.
[[Back to the road]] There haven't been any curves on the road, and driving in a straight line becomes mind-fuckingly boring.
You know you're moving, but it doesn't feel like you're going anywhere at all.
In fact, if the car wasn't on and the scenery wasn't changing, you could trick yourself into thinking you've been going in some sort of long, infinity circle.
[[Drive through the evening]]The sun fades in the corner of your vision. Streaks of navy and pink across the horizon. You let the ultraviolence soothe your sunbitten skin.
You try to keep your eyes focused on specific points along the highway but you can feel the strain, then the fatigue.
Your muscles spark and spike with nerve pain, then the numbness becomes unnerving. You weren't built to drive like this.
You're surprised you haven't lost a tire - Elaine's been huffing up a storm.
[[Drive through the night ]]You watch the sky fade into a deep, dark resolution blue.
The moon casts soft a glow over the steering wheel.
You're no longer overheating.
But you wish you were being held in warm arms.
Slightly too hot and sticky but you wouldn't dare move.
Your body cries out for some kind of relief.
You are so tired. But not just tired: //truly tired.// Tired of the problems, the bullshit, the agony of existing. There's a call deep inside of you. For peace. For quiet.
It would be so easy...
to just set the world
aside
for
a
moment
and--
[[Let Your Eyes Close For A Moment]]
[[No, have to stay awake]]Your thoughts drift to your Mama who made you.
Unmade you towards the end.
Born to circumstances she couldn't escape.
Made hard by poverty and heartbreak.
She saw your soft exposed underbelly.
The kind curiosity in those soft grey eyes.
And twisted her knife.
From then on you learned to hide.
Thoughts, feelings, hopes, dreams.
What meant the most to you kept in an imaginary box inside.
Outside silent, a blank canvas for her splatter paints.
Mama only wanted you when she wanted revenge.
On her parents for dying,
On your Daddy for leaving.
On the world for giving her you without asking.
On most days you stayed out of her way.
Used your nights to dream of escape.
Collected her unemployment after long trips on the interstate.
Mama never thought you could leave.
Trapped behind invisible walls of cripplingly low self-esteem.
You believed her for a while.
Even thought she was doing you a favor.
She said she always hated your Mama.
Jaw would tighten when you flinched at a hug.
Pain in her eyes when she saw how you rushed to apologize for being yourself.
She made sure to hold you close and whisper.
About how your Mama was wrong.
You were always the best gift she ever got.
[[Back to the road]] A gasp rips through you, pulling oxygen through your body.
You take a few, sharp, painful deep breaths.
It feels like nails have pierced your lungs, the effort causing your body to seize with every exhale.
Your eyes. You have to open your eyes.
[[Open your eyes]]
You pry your eyes open and see a kaleidoscope of colors blurring into each other.
Something reflective glints at the ends of your vision. It looks like stars at the ends of your eyelashes. It's pretty.
Your eyes adjust. You're staring out into the desert, right cheek pressed against rusted metal.
Halo of glass shards catching the light.
Drops of sticky red splattered like a fucked-up Pollock.
Like that "sinful" nailpolish your Mama never let you wear.
Another breath. More pain. You try to move your fingers. You can't feel it, but you can hear the slight squeak of nails scratching against paint. You can feel smooth, sticky fabric against your legs.
[[Take stock]]You push your arms up.
You scream.
You push down with your legs.
You scream.
You have a better view now. Things begin to click into place.
You've been folded over the windshield, shattered through and scattered across the ground. You're out from the waist up, bent over the hood. Your legs are splayed across the dash, sticking to the leather, tangled in the fabric of your dress.
Elaine is smashed against a rough-hewn clump of sandstone, bumper crumpled. A small plume of smoke drifts upwards lazily, like a spirit ascending from a spent corpse.
[[Push yourself]]You slowly push yourself forward, rolling off the car and slamming onto your back.
You cry out, dust filling your mouth. There's heat like a neutron bomb in your abdomen.
You look down.
A shard of glass juts out from your stomach.
The blood blooms out slowly, staining the white.
A red wedding.
Total blasphamy.
She would have loved it.
You laugh once.
You cough and wheeze.
You choke on blood.
You look up.
You gasp.
The stars were always bigger in the desert.
Your eyes widen.
Your chest aches.
A stray tear catches in your eyelashes.
There.
Finally.
She's here.
[[Shock]]She looks like a star.
Bright. So bright.
Your head is light.
Floating like a leaf on the wind.
She extends her hand.
Touches your cheek.
Runs her fingers over your chin.
Along your blood wet lips.
It's soft.
Kind.
Safe.
You haven't known safety like her.
Not since you realized.
You weren't ever going to be right.
Not for Mama.
Not for Him.
Not for Them.
[[Blood Loss]] You cruise down the road
Mind racing, hands shaking
Flashes of memories echo through your brain, flooding your vision
[[December]]
It's a chilly evening in December.
He takes you to the old colonial he grew up in.
Perfectly curated for a storybook life.
Both of his parents are alive.
He has dinner with them every Sunday night.
You try to be invested in the pictures of him at his youngest.
Red ruddy cheeks and alter boy blessings.
You feel dread curl like a gut punch to the stomach.
Because they're betting on a losing dog.
Just waiting for the day you turn around and get shot
[[March]]It's a quiet morning in March.
You told Him you were going for a long walk.
Her hands are rough and calloused.
You run your fingers over the raised ridges.
You remember something about palm lines.
Some nonsense about fate and heart in the creases of skin.
She giggles at the furrow in your brows.
Tells you to stop thinking so hard.
Lips taste like the crispest Granny Smith.
[[July]]It's a suffocating day in July.
He argues with you about your withdrawn silence.
It's ironic that he never lets you get a word in.
You escape out to her grandfather's old farm.
She shows you the baby lambs first.
Admits that she named her favorite after your nickname.
You kiss her until your lungs hurt.
You end up under the shade of an old Cypress tree.
Watch the wind gently rustle the leaves.
Her head in your lap.
Your hands smooth out workworn tangles in her hair.
She asks about your day.
You say it's been fine.
You try to hide the fact that you've cried every night.
She reads between the lines and holds you tight.
It's a terrifying thought.
That someone cares enough to ask you how you are.
Takes enough of an interest to remember you exist.
You want to hide but find the courage to revel in it.
[[August]]It's a painful day in August.
Wedding planning is in full swing.
You watch a couple hold hands on main street.
It reminds you of an old movie.
The man puts his hand out to ask for a dance.
The woman accepts for him and no one else.
It doesn't seem fair.
You've held his hand exactly twice.
Once when he proposed.
The other so he could show off the ring.
[[Road into town]]
The cook appears behind you.
But it's not the cook.
It's a preacher, open bible in hand.
The diner is the church.
Pews filled with strangers.
Two wedding rings like a ball and chain.
Wedding bells in the clamor of your heartbeat.
Bile in your throat.
Darting eyes.
Shaking hands.
You can't run away.
You can't shake the thought.
It's lit dynamite caught in your throat.
You know it's blasphemy.
But if you can't love Her without being a sinner.
Than their God and your God can't be the same.
[[You have to run]]In the panic and the fury and the sadness
The furniture in your mind whipping against your delicately built walls
Your internal world shakes
The levees break
Only one thought emerges from the blood and dust
[[Everyone knows]](text-style:"smear","expand","shudder")[Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows
Everyone Knows]
[[Everyone knows you're the key to my heart]]
No use hiding anymore.
[[RINGGGGGGGG]]
She reaches down, cradles your other cheek.
Featherlight thumb brushes away crystalline tears.
Her eyes are stardust.
Galaxies threaded through the freckles across her nose.
A black hole in the scar on her upper lip.
The wonder of it all.
The secrets of the universe.
Unlocked in the rough skin of her fingertips.
You lose the ability to talk.
You wouldn't know where to start.
You wouldn't know where to stop.
So much to say.
So little time.
[[Breathing slows]]She floats above you the entire time.
Something like the coming of Jesus.
Floating in enteral light like God.
You don't pray but you pray to her.
A soft mumble of love through slowing lips.
You're tired now.
Your pain is gone.
You shut your eyes.
A brittle sigh from your aching chest.
She feels like home.
You don't have to run anymore.
You don't have to run.
ENDING 1
[[U.S. Route 160]]Another bead of sweat rolls down your forehead. It's over 106 degrees, 10 hours in what will be a multi-day driving spree. You curse your old boneshaker 1960's sedan - affectionately named Elaine - for having no AC, and rolling the windows down is like breathing in volcanic ash. That means no cigarettes either.
The puffy white taffeta of your gown seems to capture and contain the heat. You're struck by the sudden urge to rip the tool and lace off your body and throw it out the window. It was never the right one. But he liked it.
So you made you like it too. Fat good that did you--
[[Ka-thunk!]]A bump in the road causes you to jerk the wheel towards the left, almost carving off the road. You hastily jerk the wheel to the right. There's a sudden burst of static as the dial of the car radio slides with the car:
(text-style:"fade-in-out")[//"Goin'--never--been
take -- the -- highway
Take --far from--"//]
You grip the wheel in one hand and tune the radio with the other, but no matter how hard you try, you can't get the music to come in clear.
Frusteration courses through your veins like acid.
You smash your hand against the dial, turning the radio off.
You're tired. Real tired. But you can't stop. If you stop--
You cut off your inner monologue, keeping it locked away where it can't be reached. You know what they say about the Devil and his details. No use dwelling. It's already done.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to calm your mind by taking in the scenery:
[[Sandstone Structures]]
[[Any Animals?]]
[[Fuck the scenery]]