#imaginationisaplague

imaginationisaplague Dusty roads hold allure for Jimmy, a promise of more to see, more to learn, more people to meet and to love. It is much more the miles behind him that please him than the stretch in front of him, though, an imaginary line on the map showing him how many miles he’d covered. The car has served him well but he comes back to Florida because the climate suits him a little better. Not as warm as Louisiana nights, but comfortable still. Especially in the car.  He looks to his right, a small, yappy dog sits comfortable there, enjoying the breeze coming through the open window and it’s on one of these seemingly empty roads he stops. The dog’s getting restless and he, too, needs a piss. A decent piss it is, but nothing is ever it should be, really, and it’s disturbed by the bark, shrill, and the Jack Russell running off. Jimmy finishes up and chases after her. It doesn’t take him long to find the one dog, and then, of course, another, both of them sniffing about each other, tails wagging. One hungrier than the other (Jimmy’s). The only house nearby isn’t much to his taste, but he’s not taking two dogs on a trip round the country again, not when he can hardly feed himself. He peers through the window and then knocks on the door –– and awkwardly, too, with two dogs under his arms. ‘––––Hello?’