January 29, 1999


I don’t know whether to slow down or speed up. Either way will always end up the wrong way and the last exit has already been passed up.

A twinge of desperation hangs low with the night fog. Lights from the city are hidden. Concentrate on location. Close your eyes, open your sixth sense.

In my weakest hour I find myself beginning to fear freedom. Security cannot always be found in the arms of a vast sky.


Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist