Thursday, November 4, 2010

Highway

Truckers trucked by, chattin' on CBs and changing lanes with a careless suaveness, bullying hybrids for their green points so they could buy a Slushee at the next truck stop.

Signs remained motionless, decrying the civilization to appear miles ahead of their current, static position. Rocks on cliffs were poised and ready to fall at any moment and crash to the pavement across the eastbound lanes of I-76 like a death piƱata. Hardees served food that lived up to its name.

A dashed, white line stretched as far as the eye could see, vaguely differentiating one side of the road from the other and the only charge for passage between the two high-speed areas is a small, blinking light - if you so choose.

The horizon swallowed up the sun and raised a purple curtain into the sky. And, as darkness ascended, the world collapsed to the size of the transport that the lovers shared and their future was only as far as the headlights could reach.

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