What Cheer, Iowa
I have never been to What Cheer. I have never seen the town, if there is one. It’s hard to tell, I think. What will happen if I take the exit. If I turned right at this moment. Sometimes I want to, just to see. Pull off the highway, leaving the cars I’ve been following for miles to continue this trip without me. I always miss them when they’re gone. Then maybe I would pull into the town of What Cheer, filled with people I’ve never met, restaurants I’ve never eaten at, buildings I’ve never passed. And I would stay. I would stay there for longer than intended, because I’d love it, I think. I love it in my head. I love the trees and the grass and the roads and the clouds and the way the sunsets look different there. The way I feel like I belong in this town that may or may not exist, that may or may not be the way I’ve imagined it, that may or may not be waiting for me.
I drive past the exit.
