We were hurtling through stretches of southern interstate, but there was stillness. The wind that gushed through the sunroof was near-deafening, but our world was silent.
When my man and I used to embark on long drives, we would fixate on the destination & the serenity that was guaranteed to greet us when we arrived. For 6 years we’ve shared the helm of an over-packed Subaru, a space that has become slowly become our sanctuary from stress. What was once another hour, melts away with wavering conversation. We talk about our future. god. racism. bad dreams. work. southern fried chicken chains. drake. urban legends. the president….. and then we’re quiet. 8 inches apart, but alone with our own thoughts. It’s a silence that stretches for hours sometimes, others, only from the sight of one baptist church to the next. We play each other new songs, and laugh at our inability to sing along to old ones. Still, we grow tired of tracing yellow lines on tar-stained interstate, so it’s time to stop. A 14 hour ride becomes a 3 day trek, drawn out with pitstops at state parks, thrift stores & overnight stays we find along the way. How things have changed, when the destination is merely a benefit we reap, from the hours we spend on the road– together.