comfort

I had only intended to go in to the farm store for a pack of thermal underwear- colder nights meant more layers of clothing under more layers of blankets in the van. Thermal underwear, thick socks, a shitty snack that I’d pick off while waiting in line at the cashier. Chocolate, gum, beef jerky.

A woman in her sixties approached as I was parking, asked about my bus. I told her I loved it and I told her it had an automatic transmission, and then she told me to name my price. So I did. Sold that van right then for four times what I had paid for it. Felt pretty damn pleased. She went to the bank, I cut inside to buy an army duffel bag to load my belongings into. An hour later, she had dropped me off at a gas station with my bag, my money. I watched my most favorite home disappear down the interstate.

No van meant one thing less to think about, thats where my brain went- thats where it still goes now, twenty years later. Less is more.