Art of Ones and Zeros

The desert road was silent, save for the ticking of a cooling engine. She leaned against the old Mustang, not out of fatigue, but defiance—waiting for something, or someone, that would never come. Her stillness echoed louder than any storm. This is the pause before a choice, when past and future blur under a white-hot sky. No map, no plan—just the ache of freedom and a road that doesn’t forgive.