Endless Road

You beside me, dirty blond curls dancing in the top-down convertible breeze. The Pacific Ocean is a blue beckoning on one side, cliffs a rocky barrier on the other. The sun reflects off your glasses. The road winds between yesterday and today. I don’t know where we’re going. But the destination doesn’t matter. All that matters is this summer day. All that matters is you.

We never had that summer day.

I never owned a convertible.

You are very dead.

published in Alien Buddha Zine #61, April 2024, republished in Scuzzbucket