by the time you reach the state line

I drove to Kentucky in less than two hours last night. The roads were slicked-down gleaming all along and it was night perpetually. I was in a bar in Kentucky with friends I don't know, and my husband was lost in a crowd of old-timers.
I was sight-seeing (at night) -- swimming up a stone stairwell; at the top a net was set up to keep out the riffraff. I was riffraff. I tread water a while; when I grew tired I retreated to a big white Cadillac. I backed the car up to a garage and waited for a body.
I covered the backseats in clear plastic to keep blood from seeping into the fabric of the seats. I thought about wearing gloves, covering up any traces of my participation. I waited for a body that did not appear. I was curious who it was.
I drove home from Kentucky alone, in under two hours. It was dark the whole time and the streets were glimmering from recent rain. I made it to my area and the wide street was lit on either side by showy neon signs. The neon colors whirled on the street outside my windshield. I could get distracted.

Jean, Gina, Deirdre, Jacqueline and Lauren

those were our FIVE daughter's names in my dream last night. Five.
I woke with a headache. 'magine that.