We'd reach the part of 101 that was smothered in houses. The beach barely visible covered by town boardwalks and people who seemed to never have struggled like me. The fuzzy dice on the dash of the hearse stuck forever on the number 42. I wanted to leave, I was never comfortable in towñ, especially when I had no where to sleep. The hearse was parked ass first to the huge instant death ocean cliff. What is that I asked the number 42 stationed permanently in an empty hole in the old dash. What's that?. The answer to everything...... you'll see he replied. And as I sat out on that cliff overlooking the ocean I had this incredible urge to jump. Suicidal thoughts Im not so sure just fleeting fears most likely. I wondered how many people had that same feeling or was I some sort of freak as usual. I carried that thought for the rest of the years and carefully remained three steps back from the edge.
Danielle my road companion and I joined the herse crew in looking for food through food box pantries and I was ready to go. My money ran out in Vegas and my car wasnt mine so I left it with the owner in Portland. By the time I made it to Santa Cruz food my food resources were gone. I could easily see life was getting hard quickly and we hitched further down to San Jose. We had just set down near a parking lot when a man invited us to shower and sleep at his place.
YOU ARE READING
this hitchhikers guide to my galaxy
Non-FictionI'll take a moment to look back on all the different characters I met throughout my travels in an attempt to reconnect with my past.
