"aardvark"

Driving through the tall grasses, we can barely see the tire marks from the open-air vehicle in front of us as they disappear beneath a slosh of mud. With the back wheels spinning and spitting up giant dollops of mud, our front tires grasp hold of solid ground, like a free solo climber reaching for the next hold, and it propels us onward. Pairs of eyes peek out from the tan grasses, but we are unaware. We use the long necks of giraffes to guide us to our next destination and I rifle through the pockets of my many-pocketed vest, pushing crumbs of raspberry Nutrigrain bar under my fingernails, as I search for another stick of Wrigley’s. The sun bores into the skin on the back of my neck and I wish for a shady spot somewhere. The revving of the engine, working tireless, whines and groans from the effort. The whines and groans are mimicked by the pasty pale woman…