The intersections are where we meet like bumper cars.

We all are sliding like nothing is touching the ground.

Why did I leave?

Why am I back in the car?

Why am I even trying to drive?

I'm staying in a motel.

I have cable.

I have a hot shower.

I am not leaving.

There is safety here at the motel. The manager is a sweet lady who cares about me. She stops by my room to give me emergency phone numbers if I get in trouble on the road.

There is a diner in walking distance. I slip and fall in the parking lot. On the ground. My head on the ice. I see a sign above me that says, "Jerry."

I think the sign is a SIGN!