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Description
A vintage white MG speeds down an empty highway. West, to California. West, into the sunset. West, into that bright and colorful land of dead dreams. The driver knows, but doesn’t care. The wind in his hair is enough for now. Once there, once he sees the Pacific, he’ll drive north up the coast into the land of rain. There’s a woman there, one he knew long ago. They’ll embrace, open a bottle of Riesling, read poetry to each other. Maybe. If she hasn’t moved on. He doesn’t think so, though; her temple is here, she wouldn’t leave it. He hopes.

Description
A vintage white MG speeds down an empty highway. West, to California. West, into the sunset. West, into that bright and colorful land of dead dreams. The driver knows, but doesn’t care. The wind in his hair is enough for now. Once there, once he sees the Pacific, he’ll drive north up the coast into the land of rain. There’s a woman there, one he knew long ago. They’ll embrace, open a bottle of Riesling, read poetry to each other. Maybe. If she hasn’t moved on. He doesn’t think so, though; her temple is here, she wouldn’t leave it. He hopes.