Wait

Sometimes when I get this way I’m standing in the parking lot of that Red Roof inn in Chattanooga, the interstate a giant neon snake in front of me, eighteen wheelers blowing through on their way to spread the commerce, wherever it may be. The lights of the parking lot are humming and buzzing with bugs and bolts alike and there are hungry people walking into Cracker Barrel next door and sated people walking out. It’s 3am and my party is asleep in our economy room but I’m out here, and I’m never going to forget that night for as long as I live because I was dangling above a precipice and my feet were resting on a ledge as thin as a fingernail. To this day I don’t know if I return to that night because it was the last time I felt safe Or it was the last time I wasn’t.