She Would Wait Forever

She Would Compare Herself to the Rest of His Trophies

Pain and Pleasure Seemed Indistinguishable

Toward Evening She Would Forget They Were Tires

He Would Worry as Each Storm Would Approach

Tire Dump at Sunset

The Trophy Room

He Could See Her Grave from His Window

At Night It looked More Realistic

She Had Seen Enough of the Neighbor

Harvest Was His Favorite Time of Year

He Had Promised Her a Pyramid

They Seemed to Be In Crisis