I kicked at the gravel and snapped some photographs.
I kicked at the gravel and snapped some photographs in the grey drizzle. I thought about happier times while traffic thrummed behind me on the interstate, the sound of air-conditioned and globally-positioned drivers oblivious to the plight of family-owned motor lodges. An orange shopping cart glowed behind a busted picture window. Mattress guts drifted across the parking lot and got stuck in the trees. I thought I heard a voice say hey and I hurried back to the car.