Counterfeit Memories: A Road Well Traveled

It wasn't the road less traveled but it was a road, and I needed an escape.


The asphalt wound through the mountains, flanked by green pastures and patches of white and yellow wildflowers. After two hours behind the wheel I pulled off to the side of the road---to take it all in.


Dust rose into the warm spring air and as I stepped out of the car, into my lungs. Clouds sat on the mountains like a wolf patiently waiting for its prey---slowly creeping down the peaks into the verdant valley and disappearing into nothingness before reaching the road.


I took a couple deep breaths before getting back into the car, putting my key in the ignition, and continuing by escape.


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