Valley of Ashes

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Ben Hansen
Mr. Baladez
American Lit
21 April 2013
The Road to Nowhere
As I drive along the long endless road, bound by dry lifeless vegetation on both sides – which roughly came up to knee height; I was also admiring the low floating grayish clouds above – as if they were billowing off the remains of a fire just extinguished, and now leaving the minds of all who used to enjoy it. Off in the distance, small rolling hills resembled the arched backs of the tired men who built this road. They combined to form what seemed to be a large object impeding my path. It makes me wonder if this is the right path or just another dead end.

Bounded by the knee tall grass on both sides of the road for as far as the eye can see, I drive down this lonely one lane highway, afraid to stop, unsure of what would happen, if my car scraped the ground, and a spark hit the dead grass on either side of the narrow road, thinking that the world might just go up in flames. The long snake like road twists and turns through the bleak dead country side as if it were stalking prey – and I was the prey. I drive for what at times feels like forever. Every so often I look back to see where I came from, trying to remember where I’m going. Then it hits me where I am. I’m on the road to nowhere.
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