SCENE: INTERSTATE 95 SOUTH
March 28, 06

Trees bent, hunched over the highway barriers, each tall and gaunt, emaciated and naked in the fading light. My eyes ca not focus on their frail forms as we speed past, down this seemingly endless river of asvalt. All the world is cold and wet around us, the smell of damp tints the evening air. A sign shouts a blurry update, “SAVANA 160.” One hundred and sixty miles until Savanna. One hundred and sixty miles until freedom from this box. One hundred sixty miles until we stop this feverous flight. All at once I am dizzy, drunk on the swift scenery outside my window.
And the signs.. They are everywhere!
“EXON” one reads, “CLEAN RESTROOMS,” this I doubt quite seriously. SUPER EIGHT, KNIGHT’S INN, WENDY’S, ADULT VIDEOS, DISCOUNT TOBACCO, EXIT NOW! EXIT NOW! Blah blah blah… nausea settles in as I turn away from the glass.

CHARACTER STUDY: ALLEN
March 28, 06

His pale blue eyes are set on the dull gray highway twisting slowly around a line of trees. He watches the road being devoured beneath us until his eyes reflect the cold, sad grey. What a shame. I want so much for those eyes to be fixed on me. Want so much to watch them smile and glow until they’re warm and silent reflecting only my own. Exhaling sharply he scratches his leg. I can’t stand to watch him drive. His stance is so ridged, so static ,so foreign to his normally comfortable nature. No, it pains me too much to see him this way, a prisoner in an SUV. Instead I look at a reflection in the rear view mirror, at those pale blue eyes steadily set on the horizon.