I was running again. Running. I always did run. I run fast. Not to something, never. Always away from something, from everything. This time I was running from it all. My past. My life. All of it. I just wanted to get away from that screwed up house. This screwed up life. I hated it all. I wanted out. I needed out as much as I needed to breathe. I ran and ran and ran till I couldn't lift my feet anymore. I slowed down to a limping trudge my salvation army combat boots heavy and thump thump thumping on the burning asphalt. My short mouse brown hair was all tangled and needed washing three days ago. I found the nearest bus stop, payed my fee and hopped on for as long as a few cents can get you...the nearest drug store. The drug store was old fashioned..They had floats and candy. I bought a root beer float at the counter sitting in a red vinyl stool watching people around me. It was cool in there. The man at the counter was nice and asked my name. I told him it was Thorn, I'd always liked that name. I've always hated mine, Sally, I think my parents missed their childhood and named me something out of the 50's to make me feel better. I don't think they imagined the trauma of being named Sally. It sounded like a dog. Here Sally, come here. Good girl Sally. Sit. Roll over. Fetch. Good girl, here's a puppy treat. That was what I felt like in school and at home. A stupid dog. I sipped my long melted float wistfully then trudged out along the street. I passed the corner that put this puny town on the map where Glenn Frey and Jackson Browne had written a song for the Eagles called Take it Easy. They later put a statue in and someone painted a mural of a girl in a flatbed truck peering out at the statue. It's in the song lyrics. I looked at the statue for a while then at the mural. I sighed loudly. This town was so small. It had everything anyone could want though. Lots of hotels. Ever since the fame brought by the Eagles Winslow kept growing and growing. It was still no L.A. I walked along old route 66-head bent staring at my feet (I never walked any other way.) Glancing up to reading signs and looking around for signs of intelligent life-I didn't find much. Late that night when I rode the bus home I saw a boy sitting staring out the window. I pulled out a napkin and my pencil starting to sketch him. By the time I got to my stop I had a pretty detailed sketch of the boy. I wrote my name on it, hesitated then wrote my number too. I dropped it in his lap as I got off and slumped off back home.