The plains stretched out on either side of the black iron tracks that curved off into the distance, and fields of long, dry grass swayed in the heavy wind. No rain was falling yet, but the scent of the impending moisture was heavy in the air. “I’m just saying that if I were gay, that’s who I’d choose.” I slipped as I tried to move the last car out of the way, pushing too hard and stumbling as the rear end of the small hatchback fell heavily to the ground, nearly missing my foot. “What? You disagree?” Her voice was light as she hung from the running board of the large tractor that was attached to an even larger tanker-trailer, stretching across the tracks at the lonely intersection. Ahead of us, a long string of cars was stopped, doors open to the elements, some suitcases and clothing strewn in the muddy ground and across the gray cement of the aged roadway. In one direction lay the onramp to a large interstate.
