Jul 10, 2014
Scorched into my heart, those worn out seats. Those flashes of light across closed eyelids. Air and music blaring, ears straining to hear those two voices I knew before I knew my own. The whispers of things at work and now the hushed conversations of three adults letting little ears sleep. The countless bumps hit and rivers crossed. The stretched out covers and the pillows propped against windows while the clouds lovingly caressed the moon. The darkness that engulfed as the words and sounds faded. The feeling of movement stopping and sound starting again when blurry visions enter. Everyone always says now vacation can begin, once you’re there. I believe, however, mine begins the moment those lights go off in the car.