She's taking slow drags of her cigarette on the sidewalk outside a local gas station. I'm right next to her, standing. She's too young to be smoking. The car's still running some feet away; slightly humming.

The next time the cigarette leaves her mouth I notice a lipstick stain between her fingers. I take a seat next to her. She's too young to be wearing lipstick.



Three hours later and she's almost asleep in my lap. Streetlights are passing by as faded vapor trails through my windshield. My headlights break the darkness, revealing the naked roadway. The flashing yellow lights blink steadily until I pass them, only to be met by another pair of lights forming far in the distance. The streets are always vacant at this time of night; most of the world is asleep. If she was awake she would have known it was past her curfew.

I won't disturb her, and when she wakes we'll be far gone from this city, forever.



Off the highway I stop to take a piss; I slip silently out of the driver's seat. Back in the brush, I can hear the slight rustle of the leaves in the night breeze. The night breathes softly, and the sound is distinct from that of the car's engine. There's not a person on this road besides us. I look back at the car.

Still she sleeps, head against the backrest, wrapped up in the seat for warmth. Her feminine lips curve into a smooth figure, and every now and then, her shoulders will rise and fall in unison as she breathes.

Two minutes later and I'm back in the car, driving on. I set off in no particular direction; headed nowhere. I will end up wherever this road takes me.

She stirs, and then wakes.

Her eyes come to rest on the unfamiliar road, and then they move slowly over to me.


"Sit back, I say. We're driving into the night."

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