Dr. Naesleep.

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Now time for the story.

If I hadn't been about to fall asleep, I never would have stopped in that damned town.

But the Missouri highway seemed endless, and I'd already been jolted awake twice by

the sound of my wheels rolling over the ribbed asphalt alongside the road.

My windows were down, the radio was up, the frigid, great plains wind was blasting my face,

and 80s metal was blasting my ears.

Despite everything, I couldn't keep myself from drifting off.

I was on a 12 hour drive back home after burying my foster father, and I had to be at work

the next morning.

I didn't have the sort of cushy job that gives any real time off for the death of a loved

one, but I was the oldest foster child, and the only one stable enough to handle the

details of a burial.

The experience had been exhausting, however, and the desolate straight line of highway ahead

warned me that the upcoming exit would be my last chance for a pick me up.

Even so, a hard feeling of foreboding settled in my stomach when I didn't see lights right

...