She had dreams, big dreams, and they didn’t involve driving around half the State of Texas pushing pharmaceuticals, and certainly not being stranded in the backwoods.

FLAT TIRE BY TRACE SHERIDAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 04

She heard the unmistakable sound of flapping rubber against asphalt and pulled the rented Honda Accord to the side of the road.

She was in the middle of nowhere.

Take Highway 7 West, cut through the big thicket, hit Interstate 287 and drive East to 59 South, miss the rush of travelers heading to th…

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