Mile 0
I don’t have a story. Take the blue thread
and the red thread. Here is the vanishing point. Take
the yellow thread and the white thread
and the black thread. Braid them into a road.
I don’t have a story, I have a road.
I grew up. There’s nothing to say. The dogs were barking
up and down the street. The lights turned on when it got dark.
I touched the switch when I got home so I wouldn’t trip.
Most people will tell you they have a novel
