At night, I took car rides by myself. Once I got north, past the county line, the streetlights blinked cock-eyed over roads that didn’t belong to one jurisdiction or the other. Yellow porch lights melted quickly into dark congregations of woods. Houses nested in between the trees, distanced themselves with acres of land. Rabbits would dart along the edges of the road and lightening bugs, drugged with summer heat, rose and fell, in sputtering competition with my headlights. With the windows down, goose flesh clung along the sides of my bare arms.