Transnational Hot Tub


I exited a Texas drug study then made way for the Mexican border. I headed to Big Bend, an eight hundred thousand acre cut of desert straddling two countries. I drove shirtless as the heat was immense. I rolled windows and let a current pass over my bare, sunburnt body. I chugged water but with no AC it was like trying to sop the ocean with a waffle. Sweat soaked through me to the seat. It was a hundred outside and even warmer in my car, its interior reeking of shit soaked roadkill. It only got hotter as the hours passed on. I was headed for the border.

Texas emptied out as I shot further from its big cities. There were endless miles of nothing. Just desert. Scrub brush lined either side of the highway, beyond that low trees or barren land. There was the occasional town of crumbling one story cement buildings. They’d pass…

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