Overpasses won’t last forever, you know. Think about this the next time you’re stuck on one during rush hour, listening to The Rolling Stones roll on and on about wild horses and satisfaction. They’re going to collapse eventually. Everything does.
I know you’ve felt it. Mini earthquakes every time an 18-wheeler passes by. That sudden flutter in your heart. The micro release of adrenaline. Your hands steady and shaky on the wheel.
I hope that when it happens I’m somewhere near the coast.
I hope that when it happens I have a boat, a record player, and someone to be with. I hope, by then, I will know how to sail, how to sing, and how to love.