Were taking turns at the wheel as we drive all night long. Windows open with the fresh air combing our hair. I’m hunched over a piece of paper with a pen, painting with words. It’s just a little song to pass the time. The sun comes up over the hills in front of us trying to send me to bed. Were passing through all these sleeping cities as the sun goes down. Its that’s feeling that your legs get cramped and your body needs to move with trash cluttered at your feet, Polaroid’s of your pit stops, and bottles of water that occupy more space than you do. The pillows are lost in with your luggage until the next time you stop. Money is enough for food and gas that you may have to rashen. A postcard here and a phone call there to let your folks know you’re still alive. Radio loud, fading in and out until you settle on one that you can sing along too into the steering wheel. Your air guitar moves have improved since you left and making people stare becomes a new hobbie. A smile on your face and you think summer.