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If I were a mason I would lay tall brick walls in and around everything… that way nobody could get out and no one would get in.

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An old rusted mack 10 big rig truck released its breaks, stopping at a red light, its engine complaining from many miles. A butterfly sitting on the rear view mirror had hitched a ride.

Laying on the blacktop basketball court at one in the morning staring up at the round moon. She said the night reminded her of day.

Nom de guerre.

A porch with two rocking chairs and a view of the farm. My classic chevy truck parked along the dirt road driveway in front of the barn.

My father woke me up from a dream at 3:00 in the morning. He whispered something before walking off. I rolled out of bed trying to figure out what he had said. They were out on the driveway. I stepped outside wearing my pajamas. It was beautiful. Quiet. My mother was waiting for us in the middle of the street, she was looking up at the sky through pocket binoculars. Our shadow was cast on the moon.