Warm rubber rolls to a stop on the California/Arizona border. The horizon tugging on the burnt orange sun, two United State Customs Officials stand chatting. In the Tahoe window is framed a face. The mirror-polished lenses of sunglasses wait for the ensuing questions.
“Got any fruit?” asks the official.
"No, just some biohazard stuff I stole from a hospital."
"Biohazard?"
"Yeah. Syringes. Stuff like that."
"Any fruit?"
"No.
“No oranges, peaches, or nectarines?”
“Nope.”
“Thanks. You have a good day, Sir."
---
Nonfiction:
I'm on my way to sunny California. See you sometime. If I have internet access, I'll put up some pictures.
“Got any fruit?” asks the official.
"No, just some biohazard stuff I stole from a hospital."
"Biohazard?"
"Yeah. Syringes. Stuff like that."
"Any fruit?"
"No.
“No oranges, peaches, or nectarines?”
“Nope.”
“Thanks. You have a good day, Sir."
---
Nonfiction:
I'm on my way to sunny California. See you sometime. If I have internet access, I'll put up some pictures.
I'm fairly certain California has internet access, but not positive. If anything you can go to a nudist colony and walk around smoking some weed. Have fun with that!
I'm in Yuma. We'll drive the rest of the way today.
I meant our condo. I don't know if our condo has internet access.