Chapter 2.

There is very little in the world that will make a person feel more untethered in life than showering in a truck stop in Barstow and having no idea where you are going or how.

There are places in the Mojave where the vastness of everything begins to wear out your eyeballs.

I fly to Washington DC tomorrow for four days, then back to LA. Hunter will be going back to Oregon and I think I will head East. Or perhaps it's time to go to Mexico? New York? Time to throw one's fate to the wind in any case.

This is a kangaroo rat. I named him Mr. Tubbins. He hung out with me all night. I think he may be my spirit animal.