BY MATT CHELF
It was snowing, and whenever a truck pulled into the lot the loading dock would light up bright so I had to shield my eyes. The night had slowed down, most of the inbound drivers had come, Francisco and I moved their freight to outbound and then they were gone into the dark towards Charleston, New York, Richmond and beyond. Francisco and I were waiting for the last of the late nighters when Rocky pulled in and backed his truck on gate seventeen.
Rocky was in it for the long haul, he told me and Francisco, driving west to all the way to Indianapolis tonight. He was ex marines, a restless man with crooked teeth and crazy eyes and talked to you like you were insane, saying,