Vows
She says she’ll never marry. She’s 18 and wants the open road, wants sex in every United State. She’s sampled only the West Coast, though heavily.
We should do it for fun, her guy friend says. Drive to Vegas, say I do in a chapel with Elvis, get an annulment before the hangover wears off. In lieu of rings, they heat up lighters and brand them into each other’s hands.
Now 43, she drives the four square miles between her studio apartment, her post office job, the laundromat, and the corner market, that brand on her hand on the wheel.
Photo Credit: Natala Menezes
Later in life, it’s not a necessarily a confessional we need, but a regret-enal. Well written.
That describes my poor sister!
Wow, this was a great piece in 100 words!
poor thing …
nicely written!