Constant Motion
No exits on the highway to REM
It’s Sunday night, and I hear them again, racing down the freeway. I’m racing too. My thoughts are always racing. The freeway by my home encircles the city. The motorcycles race around this track. My thoughts race around in circles too. The bikers must be on an adventure. Afterall, they get to speed while I need to sleep. Their destination is doubtlessly exotic; mine is consistently work. I wonder which exit they will take. I wish my thoughts would find one too.
About the Creator
Bethany Yoder
Fascinated with the art and science of story-telling, particularly through the lens of film and the magic of subtext.
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