Today,
taking the same route
to work
that I always do
seemed stifling.
I couldn't bear
even thinking about
driving past
those same old buildings.
On the way home,
I didn't feel any different.
I decided to take the freeway.
You get on at UVU,
head south,
and then get off
at the very next exit.
Part of my heart
wanted to keep driving
forever.
I would have driven south
through the expanse of countryside
that looks like
the face of the moon,
not even caring
that my phone
had no reception.
I'd eventually
get lost in the red rocks,
find a European tour bus
stopping to shop
at the outlets,
and contemplate Zion
with them.
But if that didn't happen,
I would chase the sun
until I saw the
bright lights of Sin City
rise slowly
in front of my car.
I'd eventually
get lost in the streets
and become
an Elvis impersonator.
But if that didn't happen,
I'd push west
through the miles
of Nothing-to-See California
and my heart would see
a lot in it.
I'd eventually get lost
on the sand,
making friends with crabs
and whispering
my childhood friends' secrets
to the ocean.
But if that didn't happen,
I'd probably just
get off at the next exit,
and go home.
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