Sometimes I look at the notes on my iPhone and wonder: “what the hell?”
I thought that Low Road was the only story I’ve completed. But then I found this weird poem/story thing in my notes.
I don’t know what it means, but it was exactly what I needed to read.
I picked up smoking again
Driving westward down I-10
I needed something to do.
I took a familiar exit. Went down a familiar road.
The thick of the day, the heat wore me like a sweater.
I pulled over. Lit a cigarette. Then leaned against the car.
When I was young, I’d get high. Friends would say “I’m going to San Juan.”
I doubt they ever made it.
But I’ve got my car. I’ve got my cigarettes.
“I’m going to San Juan”