I’ve been stalled in the crossroads of a Midwestern town. The wind from an impatient storm whips around me, whispering for me to rush rush rush. In the dark clouds, there are dangerously beautiful swirls, and I want to look away, but I know that I cannot.
The sun is shining in the towns around me and the locals make their yellow-windowed homes under tin roofs.
And I spin into the clouds.