Detours cannot be avoided even when the road is marked by something other than itself--signs abruptly, randomly, and accidently move and revoke themselves. One is always left knowing exactly where one is not.
PASSAGES WITHOUT RETURN
(Scene opens on an empty crossroads. The landscape is flat and unending in the distance the rumble of a train passing can be heard. After a long pause a roaring red truck crosses the frame. As it speeds by it hits a pothole, stones and garbage spill out of the truck's full bed, it falls in slow motion onto the road. The truck suddenly stops, two voices can be heard yelling at each other, the voices become figures against the darkening sky as they move towards the accidental piles of spillage across the road.)
The Driver (Her voice is full of too much coffee and too little sleep): You would't know her, you'd have seen her everywhere in town if you did, in a hotel, in a street, in a train, in a bar, in a book, in a film, in your stupid daydreams--if you had the guts to cross beyond yourself. But, you always want to know where you are, you suffer from too much mapping, the malady of positions, of the measurable. So just remain empty for a moment and let me think.
The Passenger (He seems to be completely drunk and determined to get somewhere): Why did you stop? Everything is so arid here, I want to keep on moving--before she looks in the basement and finds it's all gone.
The Driver (She leans down to look at the piles of objects and stones on the road): Did you see that? That blue glow in the fragments?
The Passenger (Turning away from her and looking back at the red Truck): Come on let's get out here--you know they will link the body to us. It's like a signpost that points the wrong direction and right to us. Empty carnage and abandoned cairns. Just like that bitch you keep spilling over me about, so much sound and vomit--and now we've lost our motion.
The Driver (Leaning into the tiny heaps of junk and stones): Didn't you see it? It was so blue, tempting, almost like another sky. I don't think we can get away with it, the gravity in this place is too strong, let's go back.
The Passenger (Grabs the Driver, flings her to the ground, her head hits a stone and blood begins to softly cover the road. He takes the truck keys from her hand and runs back to it. The silence is broken by the engine as it screams down the road. After a long pause. A blue glow emerges from the stones and crawls into the Driver's bleeding body).