Where the road goes

She picked up her rucksack and slung it in the back of her car. She'd whittled her life down to the road that stretched ahead of her, a few changes of clothes, and her tools. Everything else was bought, sold, and bartered along the way. She slipped gingerly behind the wheel; the seat was hot and her legs were bare. The car started after a couple of tries; its battery was going, but it wasn't gone yet.

Where would she go today? The gas gauge hovered between half and three quarters full; more than enough to get to the next town. Good. She'd had enough of this one.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, freshwater pearls, sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard. Hand fabricated.