road stories: introduction

so I do a lot of travelling to the same place, not far but far enough, from my home. I wake up early in the morning, get ready, and drive down so I can be on time and not be seen as a slacker. I don’t work there; i am a frequent guest. and I sometimes leave by afternoon, when the rest of the world only starts thinking about leaving. other times, I am with the rest of the world, my extra time meaning nothing except lost sleep. and then I start it all again the next day.

I’ve travelled this same long road in the dark, at sun’s rise, at noon’s rule and nap, and evening’s call and reign. it doesn’t change, just the people who play on it. its stability is a comfort to me on my ride, my other passenger being my music, which is ever changing. even though all the parts and places have been named before, I’ve given them my names as they appear to me. There’s the Three Sisters way stations, the Keep and the Bridge, the Fox Hollow, the Dawg Barrens, the Belle, and the Edge of Town. Each name has a place in reality and a place in my mind, and these are my stories about them.


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