CRAWLING KING SNAKE by ETTA JAMES Story by Rijn Collins
I think of my past snakes, all those blue eyes and banjos over the years, the late night knocks and needs that kept my heart shielded and my eyes always on the door.
I think of my past snakes, all those blue eyes and banjos over the years, the late night knocks and needs that kept my heart shielded and my eyes always on the door.
Jesse Maskell Montana, June 2015 A race across the country skipping everything I want to see, farmland from a car window always hungry to go into them, down those roads, further in, fleetingly small towns not even, I'm strapped in with Chris a rideshare stranger on this wild ride...
For Paul Chai, music and travel are inseparable. A photo might trigger a memory, he writes, but the right song will trigger a feeling.
Stephen Andrew Somewhere along the Hume Highway, summer of 1982 I catch myself staring too long at the sunlight on her hair, or laughing too loud at one of her jokes, and feel the sharp pierce of an unbridgeable distance.