All packed up then and in the car, just us two. The road out to the campsite wears thin and chafes with the whir of treetops gone by. A kissing canopy, a sheer of basalt stone in lieu of a guardrail. The signs are helpful. They say watch for deer. For the travelers it says beware: look out for bears. Look out for deer crossings because they don’t look. Look out for hunters and hunters look out for regular people. Look out for looks of contempt.

Watch for bears, polar and other. Watch for slick truths and elisions. Watch for coining new terms for old problems instead of fixing them. Watch for wet foliage in the road, hairpin turns, speed limit changes, ice on the bridge. Watch for disappointment and scorekeeping. Watch for inequity. Watch for emotional line-crossing even with family. Watch for fair-sharing. Watch for unvoiced hopes of return. Watch for hoping things get worked out while the birds chirp and sing to the windows all this time tightly rolled up.

Avery Holmes is a writer based in Ridgewood, Queens. His short story “Mr. Buttercakes” was awarded the John Gardner Memorial Prize from Harpur Palate.