The dead have their own highways. Laid in those unwelcoming wastelands that begin outside our lives, they are filled with streams of departing souls. Their alarming hum can be heard in the deep flaws of the universe - it comes from potholes and cracks left by cruelty, violence and vice. Their feverish hustle can be glimpsed when the heart is ready to tear itself apart - it is then that what is supposed to be secret opens to the eye