As the night flows by it rushes in the smell of new-cut lawns. A million days of summer all catch together in the scent of green grass freshly mown. I pull into a convenience store lot. The car sighs as if to say let's just keep going, it's so close now.

Milk and bread. The traveler's final necessary stop.

Here it smells like pavement still hot from the day. Then I catch a whiff so strong it melts the years between.