48.2

Page 35

with remains, that portrait staring me down in the rearview. Rain started up at the Omaha city limits, and we didn’t talk much as the strip malls, car lots, mazes of storage units, wounded beige apartment buildings and truck stops gave way to ash-gray fields left and right and a parade of tired billboards all welcoming us. The wipers chugged. Tires hissed. The Cruiser drifted over standing water and traffic was light. At times I held Jenny’s bare forearm and wrist feeling her tremble as she quietly snored against the fogged and rattling passenger window.

34| PHOEBE 48.2


Millions discover their favorite reads on issuu every month.

Give your content the digital home it deserves. Get it to any device in seconds.