feel my footsteps

as we push forward through to dawn, the car just swerves ever so slightly. well, sometimes its more than slight. i wish i could say i feel safe when my father drives, but its truly the opposite. in fact, i rarely feel safe in cars anymore unless i am driving. my heart races rather fast and i see accidents constantly in my mind. i wish i could sleep right now, but only the dog sleeps. she is the most comfortable of the 5 of us, tucked into the back of the car between the scrabble board and my luggage. although who knows if she's really comfortable. its not as if she will tell us. i'd love to have one of those dog collars they had in UP for emily, but at the same time, i wouldn't want her to tell me what happens on a daily basis. i am starving. its 7 minutes to 6am. we passed some cows grazing, but its mostly just trees and cars and trees and cars on the other side of the highway. in detroit, i saw more stopped and stranded cars on the highway than i ever have in my 10 years of driving. shane said it was because everyone there drives american cars and maybe that's true. my family drives volvos. i drove a prius in detroit and felt out of place. scott and i parked it in front of the packard plant and it looked silly. a silly looking car amongst the remains of industry. the ruins of industry. the post-industry. my father and i had somewhat of a conversation about detroit yesterday while driving through queens. i think that's one of the first conversations we've had about my interests and work that we've ever had. for more than a few minutes. although i didn't tell him my theories or my stories. we didn't get there just yet. we drove down jamacia avenue and he commented about the traffic and the pedestrians and the white castle. i commented about the uninteresting new stories and the weather in edgartown and the condition of the roads in queens. i was starving. i tried to not picture the accidents, although they were in the front of my brain as we swerved, ever more than slightly.