Was It Arizona

Was it Arizona? Endless road, in flat landscape of shrubs and sand, no elevations no distant ridge of a mountain, no coast and sunlight gleaming on a calm ocean. Trapped, I drove slower and slower, doomed to drive on this road forever; the thought of getting out and start running, when I saw a few trees at the distance, soon some houses too and a petrol station, I needed to fill up the tank; the attendant wasn’t there walked over to a café, where an old man sat reading his paper, didn’t look up when the swing door slammed shut behind him A fat black woman, behind the counter, was watching daytime soap on an ancient TV set she turned and looked at me; I said: “coffee please.” She gave me a cup and said “fifty cents,” turned her massive back on me, continued watching TV. I looked and out saw the attendant, hurried out, wanted to be sure he didn’t take off again; I never drank my coffee, not that anyone took any notice. The man looked foreign, and I said: “must be lonely living out here?” “Yeah, but it sure beats living in Baghdad, the he murmured.”