Cindy and I ended up pulling over and driving into a gas station for a pit stop shortly after she had informed me that she would tell me why she needed to go to Oregon. I took the keys completely out of the ignition and grabbed my wallet out of my purse leaving nothing truly valuable behind—or at least what I considered invaluable.
I stepped out of the car to run inside the little mini mart at the gas station and use the restroom, and on the way out I bought a couple bags of chips and two water bottles for the long journey north. When I did make it back to my car Cindy’s face was contorted in a way that made her seem incredibly mortified by my presence. Continue reading “Shock Wave: Part 3- I’m Just A Writer”