Hard Beat

Each jar, each bump, and each mile stretches into what feels like an eternity as my mind races and my cell phone shows no signal, its eerie silence making me want to stomp it beneath my boots in frustration. My watch is not my friend either because each minute that ticks past, each mile that we put between us and the village, is more time and space from wherever the fuck Beaux is with her curiosity to take more damn pictures.