It was the first time she'd driven a rented truck.
Listened carefully to the serge-shirted hire guy,
As he pointed to the dashboard with tobacco-stained fingers.
Now her own red lacquered talons caressed the worn steering wheel
congealed with sweat and bacterial infections.
Her boobs jiggled, in their low-cut top,
and she giggled on high sprung seats and higher suspension.
Tension released.
Gathered behind her, in boxes, stacked her worldly goods.
All on their way to her new life.
Six hours cross country... Into her future on unknown piece of planet.
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