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alcohol. I will never touch a drop.
Not as long as I’m pregnant and
not if some tiny person’s life
depends on me sober. Baby?
Are you listening? Are you really
alive inside me? Oh God.
If you are, how will I ever take
care of you? My fingers go
tingly. My breath falls shallow.
Small steps. One at a time.
BISHOP TO CARSON CITY
Is about three hours in good weather.
This is not good weather. Talk about
initiation by blizzard. Even Trey
is impressed. I’ve seen it come
down pretty good, but never
quite like this. Hope a plow
comes through soon. Chains aren’t
going to help much otherwise.
Eventually, one does catch up
to us. Trey moves as far to one
side of the road as he can to let
the guy pass. Looks like just him and us.
Late afternoon. Christmas Eve.
Snow forming a dense white curtain.
Oh, yeah. We’re pretty much alone
out here. “Stay close to the plow, okay?”
Trey laughs. Don’t worry, little girl.
I won’t let anything bad happen to you.
TOO LATE, DUDE
