Sequester

Many days, I feel the urge to drive long, lonely highways toward an obscure destination, some distant place whose only allure is its remoteness and privacy. I know nothing of this place other than it requires considerable time and concerted effort to reach. I’m not after high adventure on the open road; it’s more that I feel a need for distance and isolation from who and where I am. This sense of wanting to get away does not lend itself well to words; there’s no description that quite captures the emotions behind it. Words seldom fail me; yet words, alone, cannot explain this lifelong thirst for sequestration in the form of a road trip. I’m disappointed when I try to envision where I’ll be at the end of my long drive; it’s not the place that’s appealing, it’s the getting there.