I’ll let you slip into the passenger seat; I’ll cram the keys into the ignition and while I back out as fast as I back in, I’ll throw a weight on my right foot, and I won’t turn my head for hours. I’ll crank down the windows and we can let the wind fill our eyes. Breathe. Fresh, pure, free. The countryside- squares of yellow, green, red. April breeze, thick hay stacks and wandering cows- everything will roll away. Like the tears across our cheeks. We will sit silently, and feel the ascent and descent of our chests while we listen to the intricate patterns of the wind. No luggage in the trunk. No money, ropes or strings. We will gaze at nothing but everything as our eyes flicker back and forth from the windscreen to the countryside. Ignoring the rear view. We will feel the sharp, occasional dips in the road as our hands jump off the hand rests, and the slight gratitude after as our bodies jump back into the comforting positions from before. We’ll close our eyes with each rush of the wind, and let our faces be splashed with the soothing blows of crisp, cold air. Amidst it all, we will be filled with the constant, reassuring roar of the tires rolling across the asphalt. A blur of pine trees will pass our peripherals, and the scent of fresh evergreens will consume us. Forest green leaves. Ocean blue skies. Blurs of nobody, nothing, anything. The taste of spring will fill our mouths, and our clouded heads will clear just as the sky begins to show its indigo waves. Breathe. Our trembling will ease, and soon our bodies will follow the rhythmic motion of the humming engine, the subtle resistance of the wind, and the timid sways of the wheel. My right foot will slowly become heavier and heavier, and the squares will roll by faster and faster. Eventually, after the wind no longer pushes back our tears and deafens our thoughts, we will smile. Free. Tell me where you want to go.
And I will take you there.