photos by Colin Gallagher
blue hour in the red light district
They had driven through the night. Time wasn’t on their side and Denver had never felt so far away. The scrubland of the desert flashed by, just blurs on the edge of his headlights.
He had already hit 3 rabbits.
Small signs stamped with places they had never heard of blinked through their vision. Tonopah. Ely. Lund. Some of these places nothing more than a speckle of lights off in the distance or a collection of buildings and a neon motel sign clustered around the highway.
“Hey look,” her voice suddenly cut through the music that had become a drone in his ears. Her face was lit up by her phone screen. “‘12 Ways To Know If You’re in Love.’”
He gave her a quick sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. She had caught it. “Stop.” There was a smile in her voice. “I’m just trying to keep you awake, not be weird.”
“Why would it be weird?” he asked innocently enough, although it was his turn to smile wryly in the dark. “Because we just met a week ago?”
There was a pause. He could tell she was still smiling, confirmed when he glanced over again and she was back at it on her phone. “That,” she finally said. “And I’m not comfortable enough with you yet to tell you I’m sick of your terrible fucking music.”
A dark shape loomed ahead as the sign welcoming them to Utah shined for a moment before disappearing. He suddenly burst out into laughter.
“What’s the first question?”
He didn’t touch the radio.