Worse than misdirection

Worse than misdirection. The notion that, once traveled before, the long road bends by minute degrees back upon itself. In the haze one both knows this for a fact and curses the inevitability, but will not change. Finally, the whole party stops in loose gravel at the backside of familiar landmarks. Silos, power stacks, the loading docks, the logistic end of the rural city. What is there now to do, but to turn and drive the long arc back to town? (April 1, 2008)


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