Airstream dream. I fantasize about gypsy life in a silver cylinder. On the road, on the move. Kerouac in rolling luxury.
Shackled as I am to The Mortgage Vampire and a vile employer, weightlessness is an aching need that, once tasted, would become an addiction.
Lunch break is over; I am forced to pull out of the lot where I feed my fantasy. The sun ricochets off the silver, forcing me to close my eyes for a second.
To dream my Airstream dream.
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