I’m a criminal, Mommy and me. We spend all day in the car. I used to play with my Matchbox cars, vroom vroom white Chevy Corvette with red racing stripes vroom vroom Piston Popper Rolamatic electric blue vroom. Mommy said my cars give her a migraine. I don’t know what a migraine is. Mommy says it’s a headache with tears. I was real quiet for a long long time. So much cornfields. At the gas station Mommy bought me a book hard cover black with white spots and a box of sharp yellow pencils. Mommy said I can make a travel diary. Today is something something.

This is the travel diary of Dusan the bad man. Mommy told me to write what I see and what I feel about what I see. Corn fields. I see gray highway in front of us. More corn fields. We are on the run. We are having fun. We eat gas station hot dog in the sun. I made Mommy laugh. I don’t know what else to write. Today is Tuesday I think.

This is the travel diary of the adventures of me. This is a drawing of me with a cape. We left Kansas, I think. We have to sleep in the car. Mommy said it’s like camping sleeping with the stars. That made me think of camping with Daddy in a tent. We had marshmallows and a fire and Dad sang silly songs. I miss my old room, my home. I don’t tell Mommy that. I asked where are we going. She said go to sleep, little man. She has a migraine I can tell. We slept under coats so no one would see us. Today is October.