Safely encased in her car, she lets the world outside pass her by. City scenes whiz past on both sides. A flash of blonde hair, big smile, colorful tattoo advertising pale flesh, and the mini-van in front of her pulls over. She watches in her rear-view mirror as he makes a u-turn and disappears, in search of unnamed pleasures. An abandoned business juts from the earth on her right. She watches a huge man walk his German Shepard through the overgrown, dandelion-peppered grass until the light changes.
Highway now, el tracks flanking her left side. The Sears Tower looms ahead like a steel beacon, but before she reaches it she veers off, looping around to the next highway. The Greyhound bus station leaps out as she passes, reaching deeply to penetrate the inner recesses of her brain, those places where she stores that which she would rather not recall. Dimly she dismisses it, but still she feels a scrabbling in her chest, like some small trapped animal desperately seeking a way out.
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