Roadtrip Stories

The hand stayed steady. Freeze-framed against the moving backdrop, which seemed on repeat. The concentration it garnered seemed out of touch. Out here, nothing seemed to make much sense. The endless miles of red dirt and scrubby bushes that survived despite their best efforts. Forever semi-surrendered to the relentless glare, heat, and the fucking flies. Taylah was attempting to catch the wind, then changed her hand’s ang...