lemonviolence

I'm fond of the unloved and untraveled roads of America. And not just because one can stop the car in the middle of the road, turn off the ignition, and get out and hear nothing but the hum of the planet. Good stuff to be sure, but that's not why I drive them. No, I'm drawn by the forgotten monuments of the people who traveled these lonely roads in the past--maybe a decade before, maybe longer ago than that. It's hard to know for sure, and that makes them all the more mysterious.
And I wonder ... what ever became of Frank and Debbi? Has their love remained vital and strong and worthy of more roadside graffiti? Are they still of this earth? I can only wonder. But as I kicked at pebbles along this desolate road, I couldn't help but listen for the whispers of a moment long since past.