244/365 04/23/2026

We traveled to the house as if on a pilgrimage of suffering. Every summer mom and dad packed the car, and built for me a small fort in the back seat. This was back in the day of letting kids roam free both outside and in, the expectation, I guess, that two pillows and a couple blankets would serve as padding enough should we get into an accident. Or, perhaps more accurate: on this summer pilgrimage from Florida to Kansas what god would lend its hand to our destruction? What god would see fit to punish us further and take my life rather than see us drive the miles in the shimmering heat while the A/C teased us with occasional cold air?