This is definitely a moment from a much larger whole and maybe you can discern that I have Carson McCullers on the brain today.
“Caught and Loose”
He’s been running the perimeter for five years now; trying to shed forcefields: family, girlfriends, leases. His feet jolt against gravel asphalt, always stopping short of the town limit. He pauses as his chest struggles to expand—wants to erupt and spread out across the border.
He hocks a loogie, right into the next county and turns back. He passes others riding out on their scholarships, jobs and military orders. They gleam hopeful from driver’s seats, but it’s its own settling; chained to their inevitable track. As bad as staying put. He wipes his face with his shirt and runs on.