The road stretches back and forth, humming under tires worn by age. James, dark hair and bright eyes, grips the steering wheel with one hand and lazily looks through the mirrors at the road towards the sky, trying to stay awake. He floats past trucks and minivans, driving with the confidence of someone who has never had scars. They pass fields, yellow and dusty expanses, without saying hello, simply observing, occasionally guarded by some threatening building. Everything is older here, in Central America, in Kentucky, in Tennessee, in Ohio, but not in the wise New England way. Instead the houses and cars smell of the Middle Ages. They are worn but not yet discarded; out of fashion but still functional. If money were not tight they would find relief, but here appearances are not worth much. And so they slow down over time. James continues, turning infrequently, crossing town, waking only to stop on the red and continue on the green. Next to him, Dotty is sleeping. She might be dead, he thinks, and she might be right. The little light left in his eyes, muffled by his eyelids, retreats against the door. Crumpled skin peeks past the handcuffs, his face droops, his lips stained and parted to show gritted teeth. When she is awake, her eyes maintain their pale blue color, always watery and runny. In Farristown, Kentucky, James exits the highway and enters a Mobil station. Leave Dotty in the car and go into the store. Through aisles of snacks, he comes to the counter and asks for 20 on two. "Where are you headed?" the attendant, a puffy, mustachioed man named Milesasks, ignoring James' request. “Oh, just down the street.” "Did you lose?" "Not yet." "But you don't know where you'll end up.""Yes.""Really?""I figured so.""Good luck then.""I'd rather get petrol, I... middle of paper..., and she remembers, walking slowly down the hall, peeking through the little gap. And there was Henry fucking his whore. She was crying but he didn't stop and Dotty was stuck, watching, with the door now open. "Henry," Daisy shouts , when she looks past him. Henry doesn't stop but turns around. “Don't fucking move,” he growls at Dotty. “I'll take you one step back. And for a minute Dotty can't take her away. trying to breathe in silence, trying not to stifle screams.***"Grandma, it's time to go." They keep driving, through the fields, through the towns, through the places, towards home. They head towards Dotty's house The End