There are signs on the road, making me think of places I've been. Rap Road, going upstate, where I would always make up a song, and sing it in a rap style, and make Tree and Melissa laugh and laugh.
Wolf Creek Pass, in Colorado, on the way to Durango, where the road was too narrow for my liking, and I lay curled up in the two seats that were available to me, on the bus, and lay my head back and watch only the tall pine trees racing past the window above me.
84th Street, right outside my window -- too common, too long in the view from my window. And then too many signs in the neighborhood nearby. Signs and sign and store signs.
*A free-write is a type of automatic writing, where you just go with your stream of consciousness non-stop. There's no thought to spelling or grammar, and no editing of words. Supposedly this opens the mind up to greater creativity. They can be 5, 10 or 20 minutes long. Suggestions for freewrites are always welcome. Visit Evie, with whom I freewrite, at the space between colors.