Whenever he tried to think of anything other than Mona, Clarks mind usually settled on one of three things.
1) standing on the freeway overpass as the cars made their way home from work, the heavy traffic creating long lines of red and white tail lights that gave off the impression of two giant snakes winding their way across the landscape.
2) Standing under the convention center at the part of the freeway that ran beneath it creating an amphitheater for the sounds of the cars as they passed, their collective noise sounding like an ocean.
3) Lying in an open field in Iceland staring up at the sky as the planes headed for the airport flew overhead.
Tales From The Chocolate Grinder 