Interstate 695

By. Annie Marhefka

"I'll never drive on that road again," she said,
as if it was the road who killed him
with her tempting curves
and shimmery guardrail waistband.

It wasn't the unworn seat belt
dangling between
his shoulder and the door,
its polyester tension gone slack.

It wasn't the eyelids
thin and pale
seduced by gravitational force
after the night shift.

It wasn't the gas pedal
pressed against the floor,
dirt shoved into her crevices
without her consent.

It wasn't the rum.

It wasn't the friend.

To my mother,
Interstate six ninety five
was the murderer,
that villainous loop around our city.

Her hips too round,
her midriff too exposed,
her black tar arms lurching upwards
pulling him to her belly.

Annie spent the majority of her career working as an HR executive, where she was fascinated with dissecting how people interact and form connections—the same subject matter she most often writes about in her poems and creative nonfiction. She now spends her time writing, being a mama, and doing some HR consulting. She also serves as Executive Director of Yellow Arrow Publishing Co. which supports women-identifying writers in Baltimore. Her work has been featured or is forthcoming in Coffee + Crumbs, The Phare literary magazine, Capsule Stories, Cauldron Anthology, and The Elpis Pages. You can find her writing on Instagram @anniemarhefka, Twitter @charmcityannie, and at anniemarhefka.com.

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