I-10 Inspiration

A one shot

I hated road trips growing up; seven people in a seven seater suburban wasn’t really my ideal vacation. But his hands were like the open road, easy to drive; an invitation to roam lacing itself between my fingers. His touch was the wind through my hair, weaving laughter and fond memories into tangles I never wanted to brush out. His voice, the stereo blasting my favorite songs over and over again in my ears, every off note and mistaken lyric slowly becoming my new favorite song to sing. And when I finally got tired of the twists and turns of country roads, gaping at the starry night just beyond the windshield, his eyes were the exit signs guiding me home.