Driving the Back Roads at Random

It’s been a number of years so now we can openly acknowledge the story. Even with all the burdensome little asides, we can tell the truth. Try to reconstruct the story from the scattered fragments she left behind. She had time to kill, driving the back-roads at random, hurt and wounded, with a sandwich and two cups of coffee. She couldn’t go home to make things right. Or wouldn’t. She’d injured…