She drove and drove all night long. And then the next day, she drove and drove some more. She just kept driving, with no particular destination. And as she drove, she struggled to keep thoughts from flowing into her head. Forcing them out, she concentrated on her driving and became almost robot-like. And finally, when there was nowhere left to drive, she stopped.

She knew she was running, running from something or someone. But who? She couldn't seem to remember, but she knew better than to try. Checking into the nearest hotel, she tried to sleep her thoughts away. But she was awakened by terrible nightmares. Whatever it was she was running from seemed inescapeable. So, without bothering to check out, or even gather her few belongings, she got in the car and left. Again, she drove and drove the night a way. Gas. Break. Green, red, up the hill, down the hill, around the corner, straight down the street. Stop for gas, pay the man, and eat only because you have to. Along the way, the way to where still unknown, she stopped to eat at a truckstop. Methodically, she ate the tasteless food - fork, knife, chew, chew, fork, knife, chew, chew, fork, knife, chew, chew, drink. And she then repeated the process over and over and over again until she was done.

And when she finally was done, she went to the bathroom to wash up. As she bent down over the sink, she caught a glimpse of something in the mirror and began to scream. She had finally discovered who she was running from - herself. 1