The spot-lit road dances ahead of me, her skirt rising and falling, rising and falling. Red lights by the roadside are her audience; passive, disinterested, fixed. Behind me the horizon sparks amber as the day burns away. Ahead the night swallows life.
The rush of my face, the hum of my feet. Emptiness tugs at my eyes. Tick, tick, tick as the centre line marks time; hypnotic, dancing road.
The idea of my husband sits beside me; lit eyes, warm chuckle, melting hands. Glowing against my solitude.
And I am lonely, but whole.
[Image by Travellers Auto]