"Rubi's car after the 1965car crash that took his life.The night before, he hadrepeatedly spoken ofhis fear of the future." V.F.There is no going back;
the woods have gone to dust,
Lover's Lane is overgrown,
the back roads are paved.
The free ride was nice.
Your head between my legs was nice.
What can I say? It was nice.
(I'm losing control.
Mile after mile.
My heart is a broken wheel.)
"The fatal crash occurred at eight.
Was it suicide?
Claude Terrail thinks it was simple fate."
V.F.