60 miles an hour

Just something I was thinking about traveling on I-95

  The highway is a drunken sailor, tumbling through lowlands and hills, little rusty gas stations and towns with short buildings.  Buildings pushing against each other, squeezing into one opressive, but unique, cluster.  They are sqaut but their magnificent squaler towers over me, ominously beautifull.  Every crack has a meaning, every fleck of rust a story, every discarded shopping cart something to say. 

   As street lights are lit and cars open their yellowing eyes the buildings fade into the distance.  The exit ramp archs over the unsuspecting sleeping world, a barrier, a connection.  Over it we ride to new places, and we see them.  On it we ride to new worlds and we ignore them.  Rust becomes a simple orange, Crumbling streets tidy roads, a shopping cart a mere blur.  It's hard not to miss something at 60 miles per hour.

Author's Note

Any suggestions about word choice, mabye something to expand it.

Reviews

[Scott Free]

I like it. The scene was very vivid that you painted.
I had a suggestion on one sentence I didn't understand;
"They are sqaut but their magnificent squaler towers over me, ominously beautifull."
You probably misspelled 'squaler,' and maybe that messed me up on this sentence, but I didn't really like the ominously beautiful, didn't seem to fit.
Maybe could you give the reader a little scenario, or a quick vision of a person that you saw driving by at 60 mph? Just a quick peek?
This is a nice flash fiction piece, liked it a lot. Good job!

[Nae Nae]

"The highway is a drunken sailor" ...a choice of words I would not have thought of ...it's perfect though ... i gotta say, great job.

[Zissors]

It is very descriptive, however it's great how it is but if you were to expand it to an actual story, I wouldn't recommend it. If you have that much desciprtion in those two paragraphs, imagine how much description you'll have to put into the rest of the story. Also, if this was an actual story the beginning would seem a bit long winded.

"Every crack has a meaning, every fleck of rust a story, every discarded shopping cart something to say."
That's my favorite line.

"Rust becomes a simple orange, Crumbling streets tidy roads, a shopping cart a mere blur. It's hard not to miss something at 60 miles per hour."

I believe that 'something' should be anything. And 'Crumbling' shouldn't be capitalized.

Overall I liked it.

Thanks for posting.