The Drive
It was over four hours since we set out, and beginning to get boring. All signs of a conversation had died, and words seemed far and few. Even the road offered no surprises as the two martinis on the dash stayed still. She could feel it too. It was tiring and the long stretches of gray dotted with green offered no respite. I had lost all sense of destination and with every new mile the road seemed to lead more and more towards nowhere.
The first stop was exciting and held a lot of promise. Expectation was fresh and we drank it with joy. Little was I aware that four hours down the road would get so dreary and dead. It was almost unimaginable then. But raods can twist and turn, sharper than the sharpest bends you'd ever dream of, and then, the martinis hadn't even shook yet.
For a while the tarmac was straight and steady, smooth and fluid, and we looked at each other more often than we looked at the road that lay ahead. Much more. A little too much. But luck was on our side and we avoided all the trafic without much effort. That was when the first stop came. The one that held promise. Promise. Seems like a word too ideal for this world. What do little minds know of the future but. If every man's sails caught the wind, there wouldn't be a drive.
The slick roads gave way to some dirt tracks for a short while. But my wheels were built to take them. We struggled across many patches of wet and deep, almost having to push at times, but got out nevertheless. We still looked at each other with fondness, and the courage of silken paths aheads. Courage though was starting to turn to hope and the silk was starting to show moth holes. The fourth hour was nearing. The third round of martinis stood on the dash.
It was over four hours now, and beginning to get boring. All signs of a conversation had died, and words seemed far and few. Even the road offered no surprises as the fourth round of martinis on the dash stayed still. This time still they stayed. She could feel it too. The road was lost and the grays and greens were blending into a color unknown. Everything around seemed reason enough to stop. The martinis were giving me hope yet.
Five hours. Fifth round of martinis. This time they spilt. One rapid turn. The door swung open and I hit a boulder. My car wouldn't start again. I left it all. The longing to look back. I walked and kept walking. Hoping for the hope of a new ride. A new drive.
The first stop was exciting and held a lot of promise. Expectation was fresh and we drank it with joy. Little was I aware that four hours down the road would get so dreary and dead. It was almost unimaginable then. But raods can twist and turn, sharper than the sharpest bends you'd ever dream of, and then, the martinis hadn't even shook yet.
For a while the tarmac was straight and steady, smooth and fluid, and we looked at each other more often than we looked at the road that lay ahead. Much more. A little too much. But luck was on our side and we avoided all the trafic without much effort. That was when the first stop came. The one that held promise. Promise. Seems like a word too ideal for this world. What do little minds know of the future but. If every man's sails caught the wind, there wouldn't be a drive.
The slick roads gave way to some dirt tracks for a short while. But my wheels were built to take them. We struggled across many patches of wet and deep, almost having to push at times, but got out nevertheless. We still looked at each other with fondness, and the courage of silken paths aheads. Courage though was starting to turn to hope and the silk was starting to show moth holes. The fourth hour was nearing. The third round of martinis stood on the dash.
It was over four hours now, and beginning to get boring. All signs of a conversation had died, and words seemed far and few. Even the road offered no surprises as the fourth round of martinis on the dash stayed still. This time still they stayed. She could feel it too. The road was lost and the grays and greens were blending into a color unknown. Everything around seemed reason enough to stop. The martinis were giving me hope yet.
Five hours. Fifth round of martinis. This time they spilt. One rapid turn. The door swung open and I hit a boulder. My car wouldn't start again. I left it all. The longing to look back. I walked and kept walking. Hoping for the hope of a new ride. A new drive.
posted by PLD at 7:14 AM
1 Comments:
crap story :)
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