A truck that is about to fall apart, the blankness of a

highway, a horizon that never stop. The definition of dullness takes on a new meaning, and it wasn’t “pumpkin.” With loneliness comes introspection, and when my highway fog had pierced the core of my rudeness, whatever I thought was so gol-danged important about Mr. Pumpkin, in the end, did not hold a candle to the welcoming place I found on the road.