Faster, faster, I cry out, laughing, smiling, my head outside the passenger window feeling the summer breeze rustle my curls.

Blue sky overhead, green fields of tomorrow encircling us, bathing us in visions of that life we’d dreamt of.

You know. You’ve heard us preach, “live off the land” and “harvest the fruits of our labor.”

Shouldn’t that have been her dream? You already have so many. But no. This is an Us-Kind-Of-Dream, the sort that effortlessly floats back and forth between our pillows whilst we sleep, as we share the joy of escaping humanity’s downfall.

The American Dream has been reborn, she tells me. But you have to know where to look. Yesterday’s promise is today’s prison. We have to run away.

I know. I know. I tell her, as I pack what few possessions will matter in our new life.

I’m coming, Sweetheart, just let me say goodbye.