Interstate Interchange:

My foot hit the brake pad and the truck stopped to pick up the hitch hiker while on my way to the north. There was at least another three hours to drive before fuel was needed and it was getting quiet because the animal that was caged in the backseat was sleeping.

No one ever says to pick up strangers or to take candy from them.

The moonlight was peaking out of the clouds and reflecting off the hood of the truck and she told me she was running away from the demons in her town. It was too small for her. She told me that listening was a great quality. My mind was sedated from the incident 90 miles back or so.

She asked about my trip and didn't get a response. She caught me looking back at the cage and wondered what was in it. The cage was rattling on the bumps of the road. She couldn't see inside the cage though as it was covered on the outside with a beach towel.

The moonlight kept shining strongly and the clouds seemed to disappear. The ride was even going along with the ride at this point. Everything started kicking in.

When she reached down into her knee high boot she unzipped it slowly from the side and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and that had changed everything. The caged monkey in the backseat woke up and wanted to have a cigarette too. They smell that tobacco for miles away.

She told me that most things didn't matter. We could change all the paragraphs in this nonsense here around and there would be a different story but it would just be the same old shit.

If Jesus ever comes back, he'd be best to take that girl and the monkey back home with him.