The Road To Camacho
written by: Cindy Medina
The road to Camacho began with two,
now just one; a venturesome woman
driving northward through a desolate
night-gray no-man’s land neither a
Traveling along on a lonely gray night
road, fog-gray pressing in on each side
with only dim yellow dash lights and
brighter yellow headlights to lighten
This unmarked two lanes gray road, it
stretches on and on and on. Camacho
lies an unknown distance further on;
what compulsion drives her to continue on?
She’ll be fine, she reasons, stepping on
the gas. Camacho is surely nearby now
– and oh! Suddenly it emerges, starkly,
from the gloom and she’s facing a T.
Spread out behind, on either side, are
brightly lit ramshackle stalls; this poor
town’s stores, neatly stacked with cheap
items. Seems welcoming, yet no one’s around.
Its through-road is a shoddy blend of
cracked asphalt and crushed gravel.
Unnerved, she backs up, then swings
onto the road by which she came; guns it.
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