Limits
It was a crescent moon and a quarter past nine, and instead of going straight home on her way back from town, she went for a drive down dark roadways.
No reason really, except that there was a song she loved playing full blast, the air was soft with moist and fall, there were wild curves and a long stretch ahead where she could drive faster than is reasonable.
The landscape she knows in her sleep is no longer there, only outlines to guess at and the flat shot of high beams holding the night at bay.
The windows are down for the chill, here’s the bridge, and she’s singing as loud as she can,
And the rooooom, where I held
you tight,
to-oo-night
I
must walk on by-ay-ay-ay…
glad speeding through the void.
· · • · ·