I stare at the sky and all of its colors and shades, lights and darks, reds and yellows within its deep blue. The sun elongates the shadows created by my body and my black ‘77 Trans-Am parked on the dirt road beside me. Almost no one came down this road until a drag race was held here a few years ago. Now every high school senior boy with a car tries to impress a girl by doing donuts in the same haunted dirt that I sit in now. I lay down abruptly on the hard ground and a puff of dust comes up from under me, disrupting the donut-shaped skid marks I left there earlier. The dust tries to escape g