Driving

I wrote this on a sleepless night. Just hoping for some feedback on how subtle/obvious the theme is.

I picked up a traveler only a few miles into my journey. I can't recall exactly why I let her into my vehicle, but she is here now, and she is headed to the same place I am. We have much longer to go. 

We take turns driving this potholed road. The stereo is on and a tune is playing, but she sings the words to a different song. Personally, I am not a fan of this one. The melody is familiar though, and I am not brazen enough to quiet her, so she continues to sing.

We drive on and on, lurching violently in our seats whenever the tire delves into the fissured segments of concrete. Many of the potholes are small, but encountering so many one at once, they still take a toll. 

Sometimes, a mountain will linger on the horizon and we are so struck by its beauty that we marvel at it in silence as long as it is in front of us. In these moments, the view makes up for the tumultuous road. And then it's gone.

After a while, I lay in the back seat while she drives. She has terrible navigating skills, and I should know better than to let her take over when I cannot see which way she is going. But I can't help it. I am so tired. The window is much too high for me from where I lay, and I cannot see the landscape outside. I can tell when we are about to enter a tunnel. The light seeps out within seconds, and it is dark. For a brief moment, sleep overwhelms me. 

Then suddenly, the tunnel is behind us. The steering wheel is now in my hands. I'm so groggy that I can't remember when we changed seats.

But I am here now. I must make good time before her next turn. She will only slow us down.

I drive towards my destination, speeding ahead, doing my best to dodge the now seemingly-occasional potholes. I am not paying much attention to the trees that zip past, but I do catch a glimpse of the lake. I keep the image in my periphery as long as I can until that, too, will get left behind.

The two contrasting songs still overlap in my ears as I drive, but she is only humming now. I stretch my arm forward, and turn the volume up.