Friday, July 17, 2015


The truck is barrelling down a dirt road. They drive this route everyday. It always looks the same, except for today. Today the air smells like smoke and the sky is grey and heavy, with an orange tint. The fire is burning somewhere over the hills, but the truck keeps going. 

The boy has blonde dreadlocks, black dragon spacers in his ears and a white tshirt, so brown that it's now a brown tshirt. His skin is golden red from hours in the sun. His eyes are bright and excited, greenish grey. Darting in all directions. He puts his favourite song on. It's motivational and up lifting. He swings his body back and forth in the passenger seat. His snake-like hair flies in slow motion, solid and fluid. He beats his hands on the dash. The girl sitting in the backseat can tell that his eyes are closed. He is completely in this moment, holding on desperately to the dregs of joy. 

The driver had chubby cheeks that you wanted  to touch, and a body you wanted to hug. However, over the past few weeks the drivers face and body has changed. His eyes are now sunken. He has been emptied, but by the end of the day he will be full again. At the end of every day he will be a hard working man that can do things really fast. The driver stares at the road ahead. He has plans to travel. This is what keeps him from veering off the road, into a fiery crash. 

The green leaves on the trees are blurred, an eagle soars through the frame of the front wind shield and a black bear glances sideways. A twirl of wind turns dust on the side of the road into a mini tornado. The boy catches a glimpse of it out his window and gasps. His eyes shine, he points towards it, his words are lost. The driver looks at the dust tornado and then at the boy. Mockingly, he makes the same pointed finger gesture as if to say that the magic the boy is experiencing is merely a natural phenomenon. The boy lowers his hand and laughs knowingly. He knows who he is and he won't ever stop. The girl in the back seat smiles at the boy under her breath. A seeking smile. 

The girl in the back seat looks out the window. Her mind wanders in and out of reality. She looks at herself in the side mirror, spattered with yellow bug guts. Her face doesn't have the same weight as it used to, the same meaning. She thinks she has maybe forgotten who she is, but really she has just forgotten who she was. Then she remembers. 

They pass a forest of old burnt trees. The skeletons stand tall. Charred black, skinny fingers pleading with the sky. The girl is suddenly overcome with sadness and tears well up in her eyes. It is probably from the smoke in the air, but it gives her an excuse to feel what she is feeling. All she wants right now is to feel, however true it may be. As the truck flies down the road, she is always looking back. Back at the haze, at a truck they just passed, at the boy who won't stop. At the glory of it all. A mosqiuito buzzes by her ear and whispers, "Enjoy the ride." 

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