The old truck ambles from city to city, town to town, county side to countryside. The canopy that had covered the bed now flies tattered in the wind, torn in two, its frayed edges providing no covering. Without it, you can see the inhabitant of the truck bed, in plain view, a disheveled young man. He lies down, his sprawled body bouncing with the car's transmission. In the front sits a younger woman behind the wheel, sweating furiously because of the broken heater. The two of them switch every now and then, when they feel like it. 

"We'll get to the stage soon." 


And then they switch places. And then they dream, about their names in lights, high society, and looming skyscrapers. They ride and they ride, across endless roads, scrambling for the end of the endless horizon. Eating food from gas stations, driving alone across great plains, and hitting the occasional town, or city, or suburb, settling down for one second of rest, they can't help thinking that maybe this is life. 

The trip ended up being reaffirming for them. He had so many qualms about taking her off into the frightening vastness of the world, but they had to get away from their claustrophobic hometown; he felt that they'd only encounter even more towns like that along the road, but... what he saw surprised him. Gracious strangers and friendly diners brought up his confidence again, until he felt that wherever they dropped off was home for them. Because of this, both of them were even more excited, and even more anxious, to reach the city.

At the city lays the biggest stage in the world; actually, let's rephrase that, it's the stage for the world. Her voice causes resonances within hearts, and he wants everyone to see that. So they go, he being sure to keep her comfortable, treating her like fragile glass. He shields her from the cold with his arms, from hunger with his sacrifices, from pain with his heart. He'll do anything to get her there.

So here they are at the crossroads, and what now.

The End

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