Static
Dear Manhattan,
Driving along these roads at night is either relaxing or terrifying, depending on the weather. So far into the countryside that even the radio stations fade into static, and the only audible sound becomes rain splattering against a 40-year-old windshield. When the storms come I practically flatten my face against the glass, straining to see oncoming turns so I don’t speed straight off the highway. The roads here are poorly marked yet remarkably smooth, as if they were never really intended to be driven on.
Sylvia once tried to convince me there was no such thing as good or evil, only ambition and restraint. I told her if good and evil didn't exist, we were all just playing around in some state of self-destruction. Anymore, I'm not so sure. Perhaps good is simply the will to balance desire with reality. If so, it is a quality I have in spades. I want to let go of the wheel and let the car fly off the road, but I don’t.
Sylvia left years ago, mailing me a single letter from a Kentucky postbox, so Kentucky is where I’m headed. To go anywhere else would be madness.
-Paul
Driving along these roads at night is either relaxing or terrifying, depending on the weather. So far into the countryside that even the radio stations fade into static, and the only audible sound becomes rain splattering against a 40-year-old windshield. When the storms come I practically flatten my face against the glass, straining to see oncoming turns so I don’t speed straight off the highway. The roads here are poorly marked yet remarkably smooth, as if they were never really intended to be driven on.
Sylvia once tried to convince me there was no such thing as good or evil, only ambition and restraint. I told her if good and evil didn't exist, we were all just playing around in some state of self-destruction. Anymore, I'm not so sure. Perhaps good is simply the will to balance desire with reality. If so, it is a quality I have in spades. I want to let go of the wheel and let the car fly off the road, but I don’t.
Sylvia left years ago, mailing me a single letter from a Kentucky postbox, so Kentucky is where I’m headed. To go anywhere else would be madness.
-Paul