ThIsPaGeHoStEdBy GeTyOuRoWn.FrEeHoMePaGe

from running over yuppies issue 1.
we drove in silence. the road unfolded @ us rapidly, lengthening our journey and increasing the overall element of distance between us that coated every atom/molecule in the car thickly. it had all ended as suddenly as it had begun, like stepping into a relaxing shower only to find a family member inside doing unmentoinable things to completely stop your hopes of being relaxable. there was no shame, no anger between us (to clear that up). we hadn't done anything illegal or immoral, we'd just both run right out of words. the rolling of the wheels, the mechanical blow of the car heater, and the occasional flick of my lucky strike against the in-car ashtray were the only sounds. the snow crackled beneath our feet as we walked (in memory) to the car. the snow crackled beneath our tires as we drove (in presentense) to milwaukee. our cheeks and noses were bright red from the cold as the snow blew against our faces, the whiteness underneath us pregnant with possibility. i stopped walking, closed my eyes and lifted my head to the sky, smiling broadly and passing a buick with no hesitation, my smoke burning my fingers as i begin walking again. we get in the car as we step out of the car, having reached our final destination as we started on that final length of road back to the house. the key turned, opening the front door and turning on the car. as i shouted "we're home" ouf of an old habit our car exploded around us. we drove to work the next day as we were wheeled into the morgue, driving by our funeral on the way to a picnic as someone drove by our funeral, on our way to the ground.