I’ll leave in the night, make like I’m heading off to work. Apart from my boots, got nothing much to take with me. All the rest of what I got I don’t want no more… Clothes, tickets, the old cards I kept. They’ve got this bad air all over ’em.
I pinch the notes in my pocket. Ma would tell me I should leave all the money I got on the kitchen table, because I’m an honest boy, an’ the Lord got eyes everywhere. ‘Thomas,’ she’d say to me, ‘aint no nice way of puttin’ it son, but you gotta try harder than all them other kids, just to be the same.’
Well, I’m done trying Ma, and even if this town would let me, I don’t wanna be the same. With prices high as they are, I’m gonna need all I can get just to fill the damn truck up with gas. Sorry Ma.
I’ve walked all day. All yesterday. Been walking for months. You ever felt like you just can’t walk no more? That was how I ended up in Indigo. It takes up all your time, walking, and some days that’s what you want, gotta have something to fill ’em. But you also gotta have somewhere to end up, and this old town’s just the place that got in the way, at the end of some day back I can’t remember when. Hell, whenever it was I must’a been more tired than a desert mule runnin’ the derby. Else there’s no way I would’a picked this dump. Not a blade of grass for a hundred miles. All’s here is gamblers and hookers, and the parasites that live off ’em.
One night became two, rented a room, stayed a month, six months, now it’s damn near five years. Never got lucky enough to get out. Too poor to leave, too poor to stay. That was how they trapped us here. Kept us walkin’ in circles.