Luna recounts a night at Rest Stop 9 when a stranger pulled up in a rusted sedan and told her about a road that doesn't exist on any map. He was an old man, maybe seventy, with dirt under his nails and a gaze that didn't quite land on her. He said the second road appears only after midnight on nights with no moon, running parallel to the interstate but lined with houses that have no windows. He claimed he'd been driving it for forty years, looking for a house he'd never find. Luna walked with him to the edge of the treeline, where he pointed through the dark — and she saw a faint ribbon of asphalt where no road should be. He got back in his car and drove toward it, and the road swallowed his taillights like they were never there. It's a story about the paths we choose not to see, and the ones that choose us. Recorded live at Rest Stop 9, somewhere off Highway 17, late autumn, just before the frost.

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