Long drive | Tejaswinee Roychowdhury

I’m driving from a man who I’ve stopped loving because he begged me to.

I’ve driven past towns, past cornfields, past villages, past orchards, past rivers, lakes, and deserts. I’ve driven in the moonlight; I’ve driven under dying suns, and I’ve driven under scorching suns. I’ve driven fast, skirting around tornadoes; and I’ve driven slow, crawling through blizzards. I’ve rolled my window down for seagulls to invade and for empty thought bubbles to escape. I’ve driven outside the boundaries of humanness — without water, without food, without sleep; and I’ve driven until my spine has taken the shape of the car seat.

And I’m still driving; driving through clouds, over curious hills and whispering pines, yet to run out of gas, yet to decide where to turn.

Tejaswinee Roychowdhury is an Indian writer, poet, and lawyer. Her work is recently published/forthcoming in Ayaskala, Ongoing, Gutslut Press, Roi Fainéant Press, Bullshit Lit, and Dollar Store Magazine. Currently a Fiction/Stage Editor for The Storyteller’s Refrain, she has also been interviewed featured in Alphabet Box. Tejaswinee has a vagabond soul, finds therapy in music, and leans on the universe to get by. Find her tweeting at @TejaswineeRC and her list of works at linktr.ee/tejaswinee.