“She’s got that high, lonesome sound”
She rode along in the old truck, slipping in and out of sleep. They still had miles to go, and she felt bad that she wasn’t very good conversation to keep the driver awake. But he was listening to music, drumming his hands on the steering wheel slightly out of rhythm as he looked out the windshield. He was less than carefully examining the two-lane road ahead as it appeared out of the dark.
They had taken this road countless times before, she knew it’s twists and turns, but she felt like they just appeared as they came up on each part, which was ridiculous. He’d told her so multiple times, and she had to agree. She was fanciful, daydreaming to keep herself occupied during the long ride.