"The drive to Adeline was rough going. The road hadn't been properly maintained for years and was potholed and buckled, the trees pushing their roots up through the pavement, eager to reclaim their land. The hired shuttle bus wasn't equipped for the terrain, and it jolted us unpredictably up into the air and then back down on the hard rubber seats. It didn't feel so different from that time I fucked a heavy-metal drummer."
Dear Daughter, by Elizabeth Little (copyright 2014; quote is from page 135 of the Penguin Books trade paperback edition).