Saturday 9 May 2015

Road Trip

Exercise 13: Your characters are on a road trip, driving along, seeing the sights. Maybe they are on a deadline. Maybe they are just out for a joy ride. Maybe they’re on their way to Missouri to clear out a nest of vamps. In any case, they see something on the side of the road that they just have to stop and check out.
Write a short piece that clues us in as to what they saw, and why it made them stop in their tracks.




Driving into the sun.
Sky is almost free of clouds.
The sun, a huge disc, shining straight into my eyes.

Dust stirred up by the cars in front of me lit up,
a haze hanging over the road.
George Strait playing, loud.

I want to just keep driving into it.


The highway stretches out ahead in a straight line , as far as the eye could see, all the way to the snow capped peaks on the horizon.

The sky was the softest, palest blue possible; not a cloud in sight to sully its purity.

Heat shimmer crosses like little creeks on the road in front, until the truck gets closer to them, and then suddenly break up, and join together like droplets of quicksilver, appearing again just a little further ahead, always just beyond reach.

The sunlight reflects off the hood, creating a glare on the windshield, the driver squints to see past it. Insects hit the glass, and makes his view forward even more challenging.

The heat outside is only slightly relieved by the air coming in through the open windows, the noise of it rushing past making it necessary to turn the volume up on the radio. George Strait is playing, the woman singing along with him, blending in so well.

 "Oh my god you're something, like nothing I've ever seen, if I'm asleep let me dream" she sings. 

"You have such a lovely voice. You should sing backup for George." he says

In the ditch on either side of the road wildflowers wave in the breeze, and beyond the ditch the bright sulfur yellow of canola blossoms, reflecting so brightly in the sun it is almost blinding to look at, stirred by the air, move in unison with the wildflowers. Their scent, sweet, almost cloying, wafts in through the windows, perfuming the air.

He looks over at her, reclining in the passenger seat, one arm resting on the window sill, leaning against the door, the other hand busy brushing strands of light blonde hair away from her face as the wind blows it all over. Her long legs are stretched out in front of her, her small, pretty feet, bare, resting on the dash. He says "If anybody else did that to my truck, I would go crazy, they would be on the side of the road, walking. For some reason I don’t mind it when it's you." He admires the curve of her thighs, her calves, in tight cut off jeans. His mind wanders to those legs entwined with his in bed, a few hours earlier this morning.

Her arms are bare, strong, her hands are so graceful, he thinks about them on his chest, up under the front of his shirt, as they kissed outside the truck before leaving, although that was many miles and over an hour ago.

Her tank top strains to hold all of her charms in, his eyes keep returning to her cleavage, it is a good thing the highway has no other traffic on it now, as he keeps correcting the wheel to stay in the lane.

She looks at him with alluring eyes that drive men wild, a smile plays on her lips, she reaches over and puts her hand on his muscular thigh, staking her claim. Her look says "You are mine, you are powerless to resist me."

She stops singing long enough to look off to the right side of the highway and point with her other hand to a small grove of trees and an abandoned farm house, just off the road. “Stop, over there, please,” she says, "I think I have been here before when I was just little, I know that house."

She turns her face back to him, and he knows there is no choice. The truck slows down, and pulls over to the shoulder before turning up the narrow dirt lane. On either side stand old elm trees, their branches meeting over the middle, forming a tunnel. Under their canopy it is shady, and cooler.

Pulling into an open meadow, long grass and tall wildflowers are everywhere. He turns off the engine, and switches off the music. Peace fills the meadow, so quiet, so calm, the only sounds a metallic tick, tick, tick of the engine cooling, the buzz of the bees flying from flower to flower, and a bird singing high in on of the trees at the edge of the grove.

They look at each other, and smile.

Her lovely mouth opens, he is not surprised when she says, "Hey, you, let's go see if we can break into that house."

To be continued.....

© 2015 NoelHC




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