The dim glow of your headlights sets the world on fire in brief patches of glowing phosporescence.

Out here on the empty highway, it is easy to believe that we are the only two people in the world, going anywhere but home, anywhere unfamiliar. It’s easy to believe we are anyone. It’s easy to believe we could do anything.

Beyond the dull glow of your low beams, it’s easy to believe that the world stretches infinite.

The world floats by beneath these four circles spinning. Out here between midnight and morning, we are no one and we are everyone.

All possibilities exist until you choose one.

I’m alive and we are here, on this road, where no one passes in either direction. The clock doesn’t stop, but time seems to, as the guardrail and the stars fling themselves across our limited field of vision.

Maybe this is what infinity feels like, travelling down an endless, empty road, as sweet acoustic music floats out of the radio and dissipates like a cloud.

For now, we are the world.