Thursday, August 16, 2007


driving home from the grocery store with the windows down, the wind whispers her name
the crinkle of plastic as the bags attempt to escape from their guards of eggplant and mascara

come find me...

last minute turn onto the freeway, the child's carseat leans precariously, light without its cargo

her options are Cheyenne or Las Vegas
she chooses the latter and drives for ten minutes and then hops off the freeway as she came

she drives home with a smile on her face and a secret that will pull her through the diapersbottleshomeworklaundrydinnerdishes

she is there by choice

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