The Next Laura

Laura leaves the bar and her husband's corpse
Deciding to skip town
Never mind the bridges burnt
And a career right down the drain

Driving slow along the coast
Following the moonlight mile
She finds an open diner
For a burger and swallowed pride

A trucker still gives her the eye
Allowing it to wander her length
But a detour from her eyes
He might have seen the future
Her black hole at the end of the line.