2004-12-05
road to joy
There are hints of jealousy and humor in the lyrics of a song by P.O.D. Resting under a stoplight in New London, my ears become sensitive listening to them. The stench of wet dogs and feet in my friend's Volvo is intruding on the sweetness of city air rushing through the open windows, and my nose flares at the invasion. While tapping the plastic armrest between the driver and me, I hum to a song I am familiar with, but don't know the words to. Not a second passes and I feel like all my troubles are left at home - far away. It is far enough from home to keep a smile on my face.
The sunglasses I am wearing are borrowed from the girl who is holding the steering wheel; tinting the world around me to brown. The dashboard of the car is covered in dust that is usually colorless, but is now very tan. With every exhale, the dust spins and dances like a ballerina floating in air. My friend is resting her head on her headrest and a few strands of hair catch the air just like the dust. Her black, grainy hair twirls around her ears and I can hear her humming along to the song I am still tapping my fingers to. The distinct thump of the bass jolts the car, my friend, and me with every off-beat of the song. Every thrust causes my seatbelt to dig into my hips, and it will leave red marks. I want it to stay this way, but even further away from home. I am grinning at my friend and thanking her for taking me away.
The red light turns to green, and I realize, looking at the fork in the hazy road ahead, that I’m happy knowing I have a choice to turn either way.
oilandwater at 7:49 p.m.