The only word you can muster to describe it as is lazy. The entire town seems lazy, though town is a strong word. It's sixteen buildings, seven on one side of the road, and nine on the other, divided by Highway 183. It's here that you really notice the highway. It's as black as night, save for the neon yellow center line, glowing in contrast to the surrounding area, seperating the left side of the road from the right, not like the seperation really matters; you haven't seen a car in miles. In fact, if you remember correctly, you used to be driving on a sixteen lane highway, but now, only one lane appears before you. The aderall is wearing out at this point, you're hands clutch the steering wheel with painful ferocity, and you can feel them slowly freezing up, losing blood, even with the scorching ninety degrees. you need to get to a hotel quick, to sleep it off, yet you don't see anything around the area.