The bus landed in a small town in Texas, I'm not sure where. I walked from the bus stop to the nearest diner and ordered a milkshake. As I was strolling around sipping from my plastic straw, a rumbling and cloud of dust made its way toward me. A man dressed in a jacket decorated with an American flag, and his companion who looked like a dirty cowboy pulled up in their motorcycles. I stopped to talk, and the cowboy made passes at me, but I didn't reciprocate. I had just gotten out of the hands of one man, why rush into that subservience again? I asked them where they were going. They were headed to New Orleans, and invited me along. I said no, and noticed the people in town peeking out of their shops to look at us, or rather, them. The two walked into the general store a little nervously, and I continued walking in the direction in which they had arrived. After a few moments, I stopped and turned around, and kept walking.
I walked all the way to the edge of town and waited for maybe twenty minutes and soon enough I heard a rumbling and saw a dust cloud headed my way. We were on our way east. In the evening we camped outside by a fire, but I was growing uneasy traveling with these men. They were too... I don't know. I was looking for something, and I'm sure it wasn't the same thing they were looking for. The next day we were in Louisiana, and I left them at New Orleans and didn't look back.
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