December 2010
13 posts
Some time in autumn, the night is warm, silent. This is the city that sleeps, a city of dark desolate roads after midnight, even on a weekend. We’re driving down Venice Blvd. at night, past the hobos and street lamps, the occasional gas station. It will be a while till we’re home.
“Surface or freeway?” my friend asks me.
I don’t know how to respond, but I know...
