The car’s German heart hums in a bel canto aria, accompanied by the rustling of tires carving into the highway. My hand rests on your lap between the shifts, and you’re scratching the back of my neck, even though you know it completely mellows me out.
The rain pitter-patters coyly on the windshield, before the wipers scurry to chase away the offending droplets. We have no direction to go, yet it doesn’t matter today. The skyscrapers keep us company, towering along both sides of the 110, seemingly bowing over to shelter us from the rain clouds.
It’s days like these that I wish would never end, when things seem to fall into the right places.
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