the pavement shone black and wet, like most pavement does under a full moon. he checked his watch. how long had it been now? his passenger seat floorboard was a heaped up junkyard of cheetos wrappers and foam gas station coffee cups. when was the last road sign?
he sighed and kept going.
nothing caught his eye, but he looked in the rearview mirror anyway.
it wasn't that the road ahead was so dark... just that everything behind him was so bright, that anything else paled in comparison. he could have made a life with her. she would have dropped everything- her fierce independence, all those plans she made and mapped out and tucked away in that brilliant mind.
so he left in the middle of the night. if anyone could settle him down, make him stay somewhere for more than a few months, it would have been her.
he was portable and he liked it that way.
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