disappearing
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The road had no name, which was probably why she trusted it. Named things came with expectations. Destinations. Promises. Graves. She had learned enough about all four. She left before sunrise with one bag, half a tank of gas, and nothing in the back seat worth turning around for. For the first hundred miles, she…
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There comes a season in life when you must disappear. Not because you are broken. Not because you are angry. Not because you hate people. You disappear because the next version of yourself requires silence to be built. Most people misunderstand disappearing. They think it means isolation. Depression. Giving up. It isn’t. It’s construction. The…
