The Many Deaths of Francisco González (or Frankie Is Alive and Well and Living in Manhattan, Kansas)
There is a rhythm to the chaos of the freeway. So much automation at once – gears shifting, the wearing of tires on concrete, the sound of various sized automobiles – semis, compacts, motorcycles – all racing along an east/west axis that slightly dips north and south at various points, curving to follow a path carved into the earth long before the concept of a freeway.