Rantglass - because that's how things are.

Random play.

Let's soar in the sky.

Stretches on for miles. Goosebumps on my arms. The roads are empty; the surroundings, deceiving. Twenty minutes of the same, routine scenes – flat, monotonous, repetitive.

Grass. Fallen trees. Abandoned sites. Unopened, unwelcomed, unnoticed.

Cars flying by like viral beings on racetracks, going bumpity-bump on every crack; in five seconds they disappear from view again.

No signs of life until I reach the toll booth, where someone has a thankless job of pushing buttons and bringing up barriers.

I wave back.

Details of this entry.Saturday, December 22, 2007, filed under Musings.
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