Trees, like image markers on the eyes, rushing past, blinking out the sun momentarily then allowing it to glare back. Blank dark, glare bright. Blank dark, glare bright. Flashing the markers of the journey - in dark and light. Flashing the markers of the journey in calm and pain.
Rushing air past the window; tyres grumbling on tarmac; grumbling and bumping into pot holes - on and on. Distance felt in each flash and grumble. Distance lost in the blink of the eye and the second remembrance of a landmark or place. Endless fields of yellow or corn; waving past in haste. Time goes on.
Journey continues - music blares from the CD player, unheard in the mind even when lyrics are softly murmured; always slightly out of beat; always behind the sounds; always behind the music; always behind the time.
Always behind the time for journey past.
The time for driving past.
Dix
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