Along the Road (short story collection)

The cars rush past, paying the ghosts no mind. The broken faces of the past, future and present, endlessly wandering the same strip of road. How long had they been there waiting for their stories to be told? Now, the silence will not hold much longer.
The adolescent holds her innocence close as if lies were a life line. She listens to the songs of the crude and the perverted slowly corrupting her mind and her soul. She camps along the road, silent voices whispering in her ears, begging for release. She gets her notebook and begins to scrawl, letting the world know their plight, freeing their stories. She writes of the leaves decay, bright green withering into ashes. She dreams of the possum and the squirrel, friends until the end. She learns about the lessons no one knew, shouting for the world hear.
Listen close and put perceptions behind you; it is impossible to understand if you don't listen.