An excerpt from a road novel I have written and will never release, or for that matter, finish.
"Everything on the road was better. The beer was better. The awful diner food became almost passable. The blue sky of the horizon that my car barreled towards was a shade of blue that I hadn't seen before or since.
Stopping wasn't an option. Keep on driving. Going home meant that everything boring in the world won and I had no interest in losing. So I kept on moving. All of the boring was in my rear view mirror. Get thee behind me Satan.
I did eventually stop, for better or for worse. I settled back in the town where I was born. Though, no matter how much I have learned to love the place I was raised, the road still calls me back.
It calls me back.
So I go."