west virginia 1:1
Across the median on the interstate, a group of people - big woman, small woman, two boys, man - a family, sat on the guard rail, abject, baking bright in direct sun. In fifty yards we passed their car, in flames bumper to bumper, like a stunt on television. The tires had melted, the chassis hulking on its axles. It was stunning to see. I was glad they got out, hoped it was all of them. Could be worse, ma, could've been the house. For that matter, it could have been us. Wow, said Jill. The few official-looking by-standers were doing nothing to put out the fire, a lost cause perhaps. Black smoke rose in a thick cone. We have to stop driving, said Jill. There's nowhere, I said. The next exit was miles on. No, she said, we have to stop forever. As we passed, Jack turned around and watched until even the smoke was gone from above the trees. I want my mother, he said. That was the only time he mentioned the mother we were looking for, that woman he had never met. That was why we couldn't stop. Me too, said Jill. She was twice Jack's age, half of mine. I wanted the mother, too.
move on... 
other roads...
Back Up...
other roads:
