June 17, 2021

I wish the car never stops.

The empty highway snugs between two vast fields with nothing in plain sight, but well-watered grasses that reach the ankles. As we speed along the cemented and evened-out road, the gust forces my hair to dance and my eyes to squint. Above the scenery, the sun is nowhere to be seen after the gray clouds conceal it beneath their embrace, and such grayness means nothing, but color.

The road stretches far until it stops to infinity. The car cranks as it itches for bumps and occasional stops, but with no gas stations in the horizon, it can do nothing, but wait.

Wait.

I hope fear will not reign at the moment, especially since the universe thinks I am naive to believe this will never end. What if I am the first to detest and question the way the balance of the one’s fate works? What if this serenity — your hands on the driving wheel while I sit on the passenger seat, observing the details of the beauty the void surrounding us presents — drags on until it wears us both?

As I turn around to look at you, I notice your left elbow drapes across the convertible car’s door. Your forefinger grazes your lower lip then your chin as your gaze loses its consciousness and enters a trance. Your right hand rests on the wheel, waiting for your command. No response — not even a tap of a finger.

I resist myself from turning on the radio, or else the announcer will broadcast the time. The engine keeps on revving, the silence keeps on stretching, the road keeps on going, and the moment keeps on lingering.

At least in a tensed silence, I can enjoy how I envision what happiness is.