There’s something about the way the horizon opens up as you drive towards it. Inviting. Welcoming. And wondering what the hell took you so long.
I pull my baseball cap down over my eyes. Just enough. I’m not sure I want you to catch me looking at you. Yet.
Windows down, your feet up on the dash. Painted nails. Wiggling in the sun.
It’s my turn, for this hour, to soundtrack the trip. It’s not your favourite, but you’re just glad I stopped telling you all about the history of The Guess Who and Bachman Turner Overdrive.
The wind whips your hair around. It’s hard to concentrate on the road. You try to get it to behave. Stubborn. Unruly. Fitting.
Freckles compete for prime real estate. Sunglasses match a v-neck t-shirt that flaps a little in the breeze. You catch me looking.
A smile struts across your face, you seem almost a little embarrassed by it.
Yeah, I get “natural beauty.”
I think about the memories these songs are evoking, and hope they’re creating new ones for you.
I want to join you.
Beautiful sun-roasted, time-rusted road signs try to lure us off course.
That one said “Not Taken.”
I could give guided tours.
We keep driving towards the horizon.
You take control of the radio. One button. 25 years forward.
Sweet like a chic-a-cherry cola
The sun sets as the landscape rises.
I offer you a map. You laugh and grab your iphone.
We rarely meet other vehicles, and when we do, we wonder why those lovely blurs are headed in the wrong direction.
I notice you shiver slightly, so I put the windows up. Your hand thanks my arm and sets off a cluster bomb of pleasure.
I like the way you look at me. I lift my cap up a little. I think you feed my swagger. It clearly hasn’t missed too many meals.
I ease up on the accelerator.
The night was made for neon. Or was it the other way around?
I take my cap off and toss it in the back seat. You run your hand through my hair.
“Vacancy” flashes. I pull up to the front door. Check in. Get keys. Back in car. Pull up to our door. I turn the car off. The song plays for a minute and then is quiet.
Your look asks the question, my lips answer with no doubt.
We barely make it through the door.
Headlights continue on into the night.
They know the horizon will be waiting for them soon.