057/365 10/17/2025
The car sputtered and jerked and rolled to a stop about four miles outside of Barstow. The wife had warned me about renting an old clunker, but it had seemed so right and so good to take the ’76 Eldorado across the desert in this pursuit of adventure. I stared up at the sun and out to the road as car after car after truck after car whizzed by on I-15.
My son looked up from his phone. “Why’d we stop?”
I fuckin hated that kid, sometimes.
