The road ahead of us is rough and uneven.
I can hear May's giggling, and the sounds of Roland and Lucas talking to each other, but it's all so far away. As if I'm not here, but watching from somewhere else.
Everything is so far away.
Except the cart.
The cart is close. Too close.
It's just me and the cart, and the rough and rocky road.
And the feeling that everything is wrong.
I'm not entirely sure what is wrong. But the feeling is there, regardless. It's an odd, strange sensation, like being underwater, and it makes the world around me feel more like a dream than reality.
I don't like it.
I can't help but be on guard, because if things feel this off, this wrong, then there's almost always something to cause it.
Roland hasn't reacted to it inside the cart, so it could be...nothing, maybe just me.
But as the one driving the cart right now, I'm the one who has to pay attention.
