(Mostly) Spontaneous Baseball Road-Tripping

Inside my shirt there was a beetle. I was driving south on Route 11, somewhere between New Market and Tenth Legion, traveling fifty-ish miles an hour, when I felt it crawling on my skin. Pitch black, 10:30 at night, no lights except for the occasional home or oncoming car and the glowing letters of the … Continue reading (Mostly) Spontaneous Baseball Road-Tripping