The world was nothing beyond my headlights. Me and the road. Only an occasional flash of the white lines even reminded me they were there. Someone laid this black carpet. Someone tended it. Less than it needed. Less than it deserved.
I was headed nowhere and making good time. This land was not mine so it didn’t matter what I was missing. A few hours before the sun made me a smaller part of a much bigger canvas. Until then, it was me, a machine, and a world that knew as much about where I was as I did where I was going.
Driving is for the driven. I was alone and much better company than I have been for a long time. Fuck sleep. Up there was waiting for me. It didn’t know I was coming but it was waiting for me just the same. Breakfast at the end of my drive with folks who just started their day. New for me. Same old for them. I was the spice in their mix. They were the comfort in my meal. Three hours left for just me to move away from whatever and to whatever and be just right.
Night air is quiet and it calls to me real loud. Interstate. Real estate. No mistake. Three quarters of a tank of gas, money for breakfast, and no reason to disturb anyone at this time of night. Kansas is flat and, tonight, that is a good thing.
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