The Freeway

“What about women on the road?”
“What about it?” She knew just like I knew.
“What about the women?” She persisted.
“What about the rock n’ roll?” What about the spirit of the era, I thought, the generation, the music. What about me being the centerpiece to something more than a failing marriage? What about feeling true?
“Don’t give me that bullshit. Corn liquor and sluts, dipping snuff, spitting in cans, getting drunker.” The wrinkles around her hard-set eyes said it all—age.
I felt so alone, like a station without a hitcher. The bright lights on the freeway were in the middle of nowhere as we pushed past the end.
“We always said no regrets.”
“My only regret is you…”
“It’s all for the freeway, baby.”

The Freeway

Dave Legere

Joined January 2008

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practice

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fiction short

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