White Rabbit Highway
Howie Good and Dale Wisely
I was just sitting down to have a little lunch along White Rabbit Highway. A guy drove up. I thought he was going to offer me a ride, but, as I approached the car, I got a message from the birds, the birds that didn’t learn how to fly: Look around when strangers come. Ladies at the circus like to look at the bear. My uncles had once taken me as a boy to gaze at grazing antelope. “Will I have a job?” the guy asked, as if I were the employment office in heaven. I stuck out my thumb. It had been a long time since I had seen the ocean.
Alternate version:
Hitchhiking Through the Apocalypse
I was just sitting down to have a little lunch along Highway 2 when this guy drove up. I thought he was going to offer me a ride, but, as I approached the car, robots and Jesus screamed, “Stop the bloodshed.” It was a day in May, and the universe was presiding over its own rebirth. “Will I have a job?” the guy asked, as if I were the employment office. The birds that hadn’t learned how to fly were about to be hauled away to a mental institution. I stuck out my thumb. It was a long time since I had seen the ocean.
Howie Good co-edits White Knuckle Press with Dale Wisely. Art by ||.
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