I'm lost;
drowning,
in endless monotony,
and the road stretching out to the far horizon,
like my heart,
feeling,
groping,
for hope,
or love,
or a bend in the road.
Heat scorches my back;
I can only go forward;
forever,
in endless monotony,
drowning;
I'm lost. 

Just when you think people are getting smarter, a hay truck speeds past. 
And the driver is smoking a cigarette. 
You cough into a fist; look at the ground. 
Nevermind, then. 

Perhaps the house was haunted. 
   I didn't really care. 
But mom did. 
She would rock for hours, muttering senselessly, hand cocked beneath her chin. 
Something about a ghost, I think, but I never paused long enough to pay much attention.
   Then one day, I saw it. 
At least, I think I did.
They say that ghosts are neither dead nor alive. That they wander aimlessly, between dimensions, wishing desperately for someone to understand them. You either believe in...

I walked quickly to my car in the parking lot, fiddling nervously with the velvet box in my hand.
This is it.
I could barely breathe from anxiety.
Will she say no?
It took three tries to unlock the drivers’ door.
Should I have gotten a different ring?
I slipped inside and fumbled with the engine.
Should I wait another month or two?
My heartbeat drowned out the purr of the engine; I breathed slowly and backed out of the...