There's something about driving at night after a rain. The streets glitter under the lights that line them, and the drops lingering on the glass pick up every color you pass, holding onto them until they're blurry smudges across the windshield. I always roll my window down and hold my arm out, and stretch the webbings of my fingers out, reaching for something I've convinced myself isn't there. I leave my arm out there the entire ride- I turn up my music and close my eyes and let the warm air beat against my skin, lowering my arm only to beat on the hollow metal of the door.
It's okay to drive on an empty road, but it's better if there are other cars; not traffic, but enough that you feel like you're alone. That's the only time you ever feel alone, when there are other people around. So I just hang my arm out and blare whatever sad song that came out before my mother and sometimes even my grandmother and watch as the cars in the other lane make a tangled wire of string lights with their headlights. Sometimes I watch the cords so contently I forget I'm just another bulb.
YOU ARE READING
Moon Girl
RandomI've come here to tell the truth, or as much of it as there is. I want to write something pure and real, but I don't know if authenticity is something you can type yet.
