The E.T. Highway

The highway stretched across the open expanse of the Tikaboo Valley. The barren landscape scrolled past the window, in the rear view mirror I could see it disappearing into the distance behind me. Occasionally, a jack rabbit would peak out from behind the brush, raise his ears, and dart across the road. Vultures dotted the skies, thier circling marked the presence of an animal who had most likely fallen victim to the harshness of the desert wasteland.

The miles markers raced by. The relentless sun hung high, letting it's light cast down upon the land. I slowed the car as the The Mailbox came into view. I pulled off onto the gravel road along side it and stopped the car. I stepped out into the desert heat as the brisk summer wind whipped across the valley. Beside me was the Mailbox, to the west was the Jumbeled Hills, beyond them lied Area 51. Dreamland airspace was quiet.

The E.T. Highway seemed endless, disappearing in both directions. It wasn't the first time I had found myself there, making that same observation, and somehow I doubted it would be the last. It was a unique place, here the mundane could seem mystical, the implausible could seem plausible, and if you looked hard enough, the impossible could start to seem likely.

One thing I have come to learn about this particular part of the desert, mirages such as those are common.

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