The Drivers

"Why don't you turn on the radio?"

"Ain't nothin on but static and commentary."

Her response was listless and automatic.

He adjusted his glasses which had slipped down his nose and made a face as if he was itchy .  His seatbelt was on, as was hers, and they both stared hypnotically out the window.

She shifted a little to the left, not because she was uncomfortable.

Outside, though they had stopped noticing at a point neither could recollect, the trees had been overcome by the starless sky.  The road was not lit, and the headlights broadcast only two solid lines indicating it was dangerous to pass. 

"The road's been good", he said, and his eyes stayed on the road.

"My back's not bothering me.  I don't have to take my pills."

A shadowed fence of a farmer's field meandered into that of another and onwards past the dim light of a driveway before the line of fences continued.  She closed her eyes for a brief while hoping to nap again but was kept awake by thoughts of not napping.

"Is there a service station?"

He looked down at the gauge.

"We have plenty of fuel"

"Maybe a coffee"

"You sit too long.  I get impatient."

She shifted her attention to the oncoming headlights, but not enough to see them pass.

The End

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