Fight the Fire

I woke up early and packed my red duffle bag and REI hiking pack full of clothes and books. This Wisconsin winter saw a record amount of snowfall, the perfect backdrop for my blind jump into debauchery and depravity. I spend the day drinking coffee and staring out my parents living room window at the white streets outside and drew a heavy sigh. Once again I was hitting the road with less then a hundred dollars at the worst possible time. This is the only way I have ever felt comfortable operating. No plans, no purpose, just deep breaths and faith that the world would provide me with what I needed. I convinced my dearest friend to drive me to the truck stop. It was 10 o'clock at night and it was snowing. We drove silently listening to Elton John on the radio. My friend pulled the car around behind the Pilot stop and dropped me off. We hugged and promised each other friends forever. I smoked a cigarette and lay a tarp down in the field behind the truck parking lot. There was over a foot of snow on the ground, and I had to dig out a pit for me to sleep on. Heavy flakes fell and collected on my hair and eyelashes. I lay down and felt myself disappear.