Westbound
Ashley Inguanta


When I see you driving alone in your family car, I am standing on the edge of the road, suitcase in hand, hitchhiking west. The sky is gray hair spun glamorous. When you & your family car pass me, the air bends and pushes my side–a cool, gentle touch. I strain my thumb up & out as more cars thump, thump by. I imagine the road carrying you, your family car, all the way to Saturn. I imagine you, before you took the drive, wishing for this freedom. I imagine you, younger, swimming in a sea of mosh-pit bruises, searching for someone to love you. And then I remember you’ve driven off long ago, and now it’s just me with this suitcase and a pearl on my tongue, roots down my throat, the wise-woman of a sky finally picking me up in her big, fast car, driving me home.



Ashley Inguanta’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Smokelong Quarterly, Gone Lawn, Pindeldyboz, Elephant Journal, Breadcrumb Scabs, Sweet: A Literary Confection, Wigleaf, among other journals. This year, she earned an Honorable Mention in Glimmer Train for its Very Short Fiction Award. Find more about Ashley here.