One summer they drove through Texas forever.
A merciless rain pursued them.
Battering, beating, pounding
Cascading through the ragged roof of the TR3
Inside, they had already drowned in silence.
The passion they had mistaken for love extinguished by a long winter, a short spring and a steady diet of canned corn and river water.
(The Rio Grande is not for drinking.)
Weary wipers struggled in vain to whoosh the rain from the windshield.
They drove on blindly.
Anxious to be someplace else.
Desperate to be someone else