Canterbury

Ran Walker grounds Chaucer's ghost on an American interstate, packing thirty Black travelers onto a bus bound for Canterbury, Connecticut. This trip isn't a vacation; it's a collective pilgrimage where sharing a story is the only way to endure the mileage.

The passenger list spans the entire culture, seating pastors near sneakerheads and scholars beside hustlers. As the bus rolls down the highway, the conversations inside turn into a fluid landscape of faith, doubt, and Afrosurrealism.

The book honors Chaucer's ancient round-robin frame but fills it with a distinctly modern weight. These travelers aren't performing for a prize. They are navigating the exhaustion of a world that demands constant visibility while rarely offering a safe place to pull over and rest.

Some tales offer a quiet grace. Others leave you devastated. Together, they form a steady pulse that connects different generations of the diaspora. Ultimately, the book captures the vulnerability of testifying in front of strangers, carrying the baggage of those in the next row, and watching the mile markers fly by when the final stop is still hours away.