A Different Ride

(Aug 11, 2015) The road was a mess. The bus’s suspension worse. Every pothole powdered my spine. Of course Fumiko slept on. Her head pivoting to wherever gravity took it. Most everyone else was conscious. The groans from the wounded synchronized with the impacts. There were hours yet to go. I looked across the aisle at a young boy. His cheeks impossibly chubby. I watched fascinated as those cheeks registered every potholes slam by rippling. Someone started to vomit. Some days the road is a little too long.

The Western Wall

The Western Wall

Halteman_A Different Ride_2_FullSizeRender-2

Graves

Graves

Halteman_A Different Ride_4_FullSizeRender-4

Halteman_A Different Ride_5_FullSizeRender-5

Facebook Twitter Email Linkedin Reddit