The Road Home

Fireside conversations still rattled around inside my tired head as I drove Burkes big bio diesel Ford back to his cabin. Some folk song played in the background as I followed the beams of light and the road it exposed just ahead of me. There was a moon somewhere in the sky tonight, veiled by the thin clouds that promised rain to this little patch of dry earth.

I pulled off of the main road, off of the asphalt and onto the gravel, a loud crunching of tires rolling over rocks announcing to the whole valley that I had finally arrived. Grass grew tall on either side and I remembered a picture John had taken a few years back. In his picture it was highway asphalt and yellow lines with a distant spot of red taillights that drew him in, tonight it was the trucks headlights illuminating a gravel road flanked by dusty field grass that did it for me.

I wanted to remember this night and the road that carried me home.


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