THE NIGHT advanced, falling heavily on the barns and trees and cars. Ahead, the painted lines of the interstate were locked in our headlights, and the shoulder reflectors marched by in sluggish step. In the other lane, the oncoming cars looked like the pearls of a broken necklace cast on an ebony cloth...
"Soil Among The Roots,"
Sketch: Vol. 41
, Article 11.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol41/iss2/11