Any road will do
The radio broke approximately fifteen minutes into the start of our eight-day journey. A sign of sorts, perhaps, but of what? We didn’t know. Only that it served us right for buying the damn thing at Walmart, against our better judgement. Our ultimate destination wasn’t clear. We just wanted out, away, far, distant, detached. Any of those words would do, any roads really would do, as long as everyone was happy and accounted for—that being me, him, and the dog.