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Its an interstate romance. His soft, blurry eyes locked with mine for that brief second and then he sped on by and I was left wondering if anything could have ever come of that. The road is stretching out in front of me, long and winding and black like a river at night. The reflectors and lines are dulled by the heavy fog thats drifting over everything, in fact I can barely make out headlights of other cars.
I think the speed limit signs read 65, but my speedometer says 97 and I'm trying to figure out who's lying as I take another drink from this super-large speedway cup. Whatever I had been drinking when I bought this was now so dilluted it tasted like the flavored water that people are so keen to buy these days.
By some stroke of luck I pull up next to Mr. Hottie-Ina-Mustang(Ang with a twang) again. He looks over at me, seperated by two windows and a passenger's seat, that smile still on his lips. I take my eyes off the road for a few seconds, my heart speeding up a bit.
Do interstate romances ever go anywhere? Do they ever end up working out? Probably not. Its simple flirting, the kind you do when you know that you'll never see that person again in your life. As my heartbeat increases, so does my speed, and soon I've passed Mr. Hottie and I'm lost again on this road, alone and remarkably calm.
The rain starts to hit my windsheild and car-roof with that annoying pitter-patpatpat, pitter-patpatpat and I flick my windsheild wipers on as it begins to pick up. I know I should slow down but I'm only about an hour from home and a nice hot bath sounds good to me. Stupid rain, stupid road, stupid cars and their gas-eating propelling system thing. I turn on the radio for some noise, trying to drown out the sound of the rain, an unsucessful attempt. Slowly I surrender to it and turn off the radio again.
The fog seems to wrap tighter around my vehicle as the rain continues down in a solid white sheet. Will this never let up?
The sound of the rain becomes fuller, heavier and more overpowering. I glance over as headlights flash in my rearview and blind me mometarily. Mr.Hottie makes a second comeback. I look over to smile at him as he passes me but it looks like he's decided to make his move. Amidst the rain, the fog, the headlights, the road, the reflectors, the metal, the glass he makes his move. An embrace so powerful neither of us shall ever forget it, if we live to remember it.