Western edge
Desert
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Having recently learned to drive, Marshall heads for Californy ("It's the place you oughta be") an ordinary guy in his fifties, dressed kind of on the tweedy side.
Objects and events unfold around him: arroyo, dry wash, mesquite, red rock. "Why, this is just the desert," he says,"nor am I out of it."
To the northeast a dissolute early moon slouches over some mountains. Motionless at 90 mph, Marshall drives with quiet dread into an American sunset which, as he has long suspected, was always there waiting for him.
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Motionless
Dissolute
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