Highway 31W to Etown; another evening of errands driving me through the dusk descending on us all.
In five seconds at fifty miles per hour my life turned to see sun-fall flashing in a dozen mirrors that became gravestones and headlights; that became the light of the living reflected in the pages of the dead; that became me.
On Highway 31W to Etown, you’ll find a small cemetery, granite pages of a dozen books, mirrors that wait for us as we hurtle through dusk.