I Was That Naked Guy On I-74 Who Was Covered With His Own Puke (Originally Published in 2008)

It was 11:12 A.M. The sun’s torrid rays impressed its power on the four-man dome tent I was laying in. My brow was moist with perspiration and as I slowly became coherent, I noticed my sweat had soaked into the hooded sweatshirt I had used as a make shift pillow during the night. In my …