its almost like she was a different person, she who drove my car across this country. bits of what she saw come back now and then, when I close my eyes, or look at the pictures. or like last night when I was talking in my dream to him, about how I would take him across the lands in four more days.

I was she who panicked and cried and made an SOS call to him, believing it was beyond her just the night before the second leg of travel.

its difficult to be contained in this lil apartment after spending days out on the road under the vast skies.