The shadows became longer as we headed out of Seattle in Kevin’s beat-up Hyundai, a mere thirteen hundred silent miles to go. Just shy of Yakima, he pulled over, grabbed his notebook and wrote. He stabbed his finger at the note, “You drive,” it read. I took the opportunity to have a quick smoke and when I got into the driver’s seat he went absolutely berserk, tearing at his shirt, holding his nose, pointing to the rear and pushing me out of the car, my shirt smelled of smoke and he wanted me to change it.  If I were to Read more »