three word wednesday (four days late)

Jolt
Ribbon
Zeal

It was an open expanse of road, a black ribbon of asphalt that stretched as far as the eye could see, until the heat rising up from the ground swallowed the horizon.
It was a familiar patch of highway for Tim, a long haul trucker gets to know things, familiarize himself with restaurants, roads, truck stops, hell, even the "special ladies" he often would find comfort with on the mandatory overnight rest period.
But there was something different about this patricular stretch of Highway 395 -- the Devil's road in between Reno and Las Vegas -- that caught his eye that scorching summer afternoon. It wasn't the jolt of wind that damn near tipped his rig over, spilling the covertly packaged cargo he was ferrying on a side job. No, the wind wasn't the problem. Hell, he'd driven on nine wheels for damn-near a mile once on the coast of California on a stormy night he thought would kill him or someone around him. No, the wind was nothing. But the zeal with which is hit him was something he didn't expect. It felt, well, almost unworldy.
He was after all, approaching the poorest kept secret in the United State -- Area 51.
But Tim didn't believe in that shit. Aliens? Little Green Men? All bullshit as far as he was concerned. But something, little did he know it was someone, had blown his truck, carrying U.S. Army weapons, off the road and on to the shoulder.
Steeping out of the cab, he looked at the five blown tires and muttered, "Fuck" to no one and all the coyotes in ear shot. "Well, better hunker down and wait," he thought. No telling when someone's gonna come and find me.
Little did Tim know he was right. It would take someone a long, long time to find him on that remote stretch of 395. But something finding him? That was where the whole adventure started.

Coming home?

the boys and i went back to church, them for the first time, me for the third. we are in the process of "finding" a church. we will hit up St. Joe's next week, then sacred heart before deciding.
it's interesting that the thing i used to dread as a child, teen and even into adulthood has become a comfort. in a way, it does feel like home.