Trapped inside
a sea of cars. Flash of sun reflecting off a mirror somewhere, just before the sun is gone and it is a little overcast, to say the least. We've spent the day out of his scene, the city doesn't suit him and I could see frustration in the furrows of his lightly sweating brow.
Here we are now,
a fitting end to a day full of
strange faces, tall buildings and I am so sure you will only get worse. I glance out of the corner of my eye, you are fiddling with the volume knob on the falling-apart-somehow-still-functioning
tape deck and I hear the soft click of a cassette finding its place.
The occasional horn sound, a subtle tension in the air, you don't seem to notice as you hum along to the music.
Cars pass along the dirt
shoulder stirring up dust and I hear little stones accosting the side of the van, you shake your head gently, all the while humming. Briefly you step away from music land to suggest that perhaps
they are a little too hurried. This is all too silly but not unwelcome from
the man who has broken his own heart with a lifestyle not fit for any human, especially not
him.
I watch the cars start to edge forward ever so slightly and we mutually note the car-sea is starting to break. I am a little sad but I knew it would come and I watch you grip the steering wheel a little tighter, your eyes fall away.
You are thinking too much, again.