My Wheels

My Wheels

I left LA last night around 7 p.m. My dad is driving, at the moment.
Betty is chewing on her rope toy. Dex and Dash are
spooning in their crate (they’re cats, by the way).

And I am looking at my keychain. It’s very bare. Just one key: for my
beach cruiser lock. I am in the in between. No house keys, no car keys
(well, except for the Penske truck) and everything I own is cruising
up the freeway at 55 MPH.

We just passed through Sacramento. Eight hours until we pull up to the
apple-tree house.

I have to admit, while I’m excited for the next chapter, sad nostalgia
is the flavor of the moment in the cab of the Penske…Venice was good
to me. I already miss the beach. I miss my friends so much my heart
hurts. I’m scared about Bend winters. And I really have to pee.

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