Talk about something new…
Traffic in these parts is heavier than you’d expect, the old one-main-route-through-town affliction. On good days, its still awful. On bad days, well — and today I thought it was truly the End of the World. Only that could explain so many thwarted suicides: Lanes didn’t matter, speed didn’t matter, neither did stopping in the middle of the street. I nearly got run over by a monster school bus. It felt like at any second, someone would go beserk and crash and start a chain reaction, where we’d all say “Fuck it!” and just start ramming each other, because we knew we’d never get a second chance.
But just 30 minutes prior to that, I’d come down the same road from the other way. The curving double highway that swoops into town from Llano was crowded, but the swarm was moving fast. I looked ahead at the ribbon of commerical shit stretching out ahead of me with the mountains looming just behind, and I felt like I was wearing my favorite old Levis or having a party with invisible friends.
Like my grandfather was buried four blocks east.
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