Written and read by Luke Lopez
Disparate, desperate people crowd highway diners… I am among them and it is night.
The dirt and dust from the desert just outside the door sticks to my wet skin.
They stare at me from every dark, menacing corner in the joint.
There’s one with spots… another with horns.
Passing by, the waitress flicks her forked tongue out at me.
The plump, bumpkin cop in the corner takes off his hat revealing the eye-stalks poking out from the crown of his head.
I am far from home and with this crowd I don’t think I’ll be home any time soon.