Road Trip with Dad

Road Trip with Dad

The glass box is hard, bulletproof and very clear. They do not see me.


It was a fuzzy time. Things were all a flutter at that time. They were (are) in the glass box, trapped in their own devices. I was free to roam, explore. I did not notice though. My yearning was to be inside the box with the rest of the poor fuckers.

Sometimes you just don't know a good thing even if it's got its thick teeth buried in your ass cheek and it's shaking around like a rabid beast.

I walked for hours that day. Didn't say a word to a single soul. I moved among them as an observer - a ghost.

I was compelled to stop at a hardware store and buy a scrub brush for the sink. No more dirty dishes. Not anytime soon.

I then stepped back out onto 7th Avenue and continued on my way. The spires loomed over me as if they were about to share a magnificent feast; they seemed to lick their chops. I looked up… they didn't notice me.


I felt that I could strip down out of my clothes, I did. I kept walking leaving my stuff in a heap on the sidewalk. No one notices. The wind feels good against my bare testicles, they shrink. It's a brisk day, late September. I don't mind it, I just walk and go.

The air smelled heavy that morning, toxic. It was a struggle trying to choke down a breath. I kept moving. If I stayed still too long I wasn't sure what would happen, I didn't want to wait around to find out. The night sky was purple that year. In the morning it was bright orange, the same day in and day out.

I was invisible, a spectator. I moved through immense crowds like air. Moving in and out of lungs - consumed then born again. I passed freely in those days. I fell in love often, always with a her or him but I was thankful of my non-physical existence.

I could dwell for hours with the beloved, admire their beauty, their charm… their mortality. I would be sad when they would leave. I had this notion that they would leave their physical plane and emerge onto my lone astral plane.

We could fold together for eternity and beyond. I knew deep down it could never happen. I realized I was the god of my own creation and was now filling the void of the vacuum.


Road Trip with Dad


Bob Nybe

Photography & Collage by Bob Nybe