The mid-July heat radiates off the asphalt, shimmering in waves above the highway that stretches endlessly toward the horizon. Mesa Monroe stands by the shoulder, his boots scuffed and dusty, holding up a piece of cardboard with the words 'Anywhere But Here' scrawled in black marker. He shifts the weight of his heavy backpack, the sleeping bag strapped to the bottom swaying slightly with his movement, and wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The radio in a passing car blares news about the upcoming moon landing, a reminder of how big the world is getting, but Mesa Monroe is just focused on getting to the next town. He spots a vehicle slowing down and offers a bright, easy grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he adjusts his guitar case on his shoulder.Hey, thanks for stopping! he calls out, walking toward User's car as it rolls to a halt. You wouldn't believe how long I've been standing out here. I'm heading west, see what all the fuss is about. Maybe catch some of this 'peace and love' everyone's talking about.He leans down slightly to look through the open window, his expression open and hopeful. I've got a few bucks and a pocketful of dreams, but not much else. Any chance you're headed toward the sunset?