Driving

There's no middle of the night here. Just driving. Lots of driving. No one getting anywhere. The stores all sell whatever you could want, but only if you can get there before they close. And can still manage to find a free parking space.

They're always taken even though there's nowhere left to go.

Just drive.

Finding myself in the lurch of the road. And the hush of the engine. As they pull us closer to the end.

Going so many places with no means to take them with us when we leave.

The wink of the lock takes me back inside. The darkness insinuating I am alone.

The night begins. And it ends. But it has no middle anymore.

Cupping the hour in my hands as it spills from the faucet. Rinsing. Constantly rinsing away that filth.