The road is so narrow that two cars must play chicken. Oncoming headlights dare us full tilt while open windows bleed smoke and shrieking. A bottle wedges under the brake pedal. We bounce to a stop in the farthest field, just shy of a cow, who looks at us as if to say All that fuss about tomorrow?
Devon Balwit is a poet and educator living in Portland, Oregon. Every morning she uses her dog’s percentage at catching Frisbees to augur the day’s fortunes. Good days have seen her work picked up by The Cincinnati Review, Oyez, Timberline Review, and Trailhead Magazine.