Road Notes
Short entries from the story-world behind Everywhere Isn't Texas.
Somewhere past the county line
I thought leaving would sound like a slammed door. Mostly, it sounded like tires crossing a county line and a radio losing the station I had known all my life.
The water tower stayed in the mirror longer than I expected. Then it became a silver pin, then nothing. I kept waiting to feel gone. Instead, I just felt in motion.
Paired with “Everywhere Isn't Texas”A city with no familiar windows
Back home, darkness meant stars. Here it means reflections—pink and green in every puddle, a different life passing in every pane of glass.
Being unknown is lonely until it isn't. There is a strange freedom in walking through a crowd that has never heard your history.
Paired with “Neon Lights & Strangers' Eyes”Blue Ridge morning
I had spent so long asking whether I was enough that I forgot the question was mine. The mountain held the sky without explaining itself.
For once, stillness did not feel like being stuck. It felt like the ground had finally caught up with me.
Paired with “The Blue Ridge Mountain Line”