Thursday, June 4, 2009

What Do You Go Home To

It was going on to the 27th hour of straight driving, his eyes were getting heavier, she was sitting in the seat right next to him, growing restless with every second. The clouds opened up and the rain came falling, torrential wasn't enough to describe it. The tires tread worn down practically to the rim, he should've pulled over hours ago but he was on a mission. Who knew if they were going to make it in time. David was growing weak each minute, they had to make it. There had never been a point in history where time was of the essence to them.

The interstate was dark, they hadn't seen another car in hours, were they even on the road anymore? Her restlessness had begun to grow into fury, she begged him to pull over so she could drive. He insisted he had it under control, yet reluctantly he pulled off the road.

Frustrations flared and he got out of the car. He just needed a break, he needed a change, fresh air would do him some good. They had an exchange of words, and she sped off, leaving him there.

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