My Cardboard Balcony

This Way by Belinda Roddie Turn left here, and you will see a black hole stitched in front of me. It swallows every last thing whole and makes the Earth its mixing bowl.

The entire road trip was a drag. We had no food, not enough water, and definitely not enough things to entertain us on the side of the freeway. Chelsea was snoring in the back seat by the time we reached St. Hakoda, and I was certain I was gonna collapse from the sheer lack of pretzels and chips and other salty snacks that I normally took with him on these ridiculous journeys. Had to blame my father, of course - he never liked sitting still. And when he wanted to go on an adventure, we were his reluctant fellowship.