less of an escape than a hiatus

We’re driving in the truck as I write this, on the highway past NO VACANCY signs in front of hotels so dark they look abandoned. Vancouver Island is behind us, across the water over an hour away, and ahead of us are roads I all know the name of. My own microcosm of a city, hemmed in by polluted water and mountains half clear cut to make way for expensive unimaginative houses.

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