The Fine Art of Driving on a Backroad
I’m driving a winding road laced by wounded street signs and solace. Creeping up on a curve I see Salvation stapled to a crooked post and suddenly my Tuesday commute turned spiritual.
I’m driving a winding road laced by wounded street signs and solace. Creeping up on a curve I see Salvation stapled to a crooked post and suddenly my Tuesday commute turned spiritual.