Driving into black. Driving between the white dashed lines that fade into nothing fifteen feet in front of my eyes. I remember again the mad insanity of driving long into the night, the pleasure that comes with it, the peace of mind, the quiet meditation of navigating the furious absence. Driving from anywhere toward any bed I’ll call home for the night. Insects streak lightning across the flapping film strip of this life as I flash on my brights. Nobody is around me on this road. A long distance of loneliness stretches in front of me. It is only in the rear view that I see any semblance of light; a fading farewell to a fuel that no longer burns. And they can’t catch up. I left too long ago. The dark wind swarms me through every open window like flesh eating beetles on a carcass as I holler madness into the rush of this moonless sky. As I turn my brights back down, I’m already gone. Not so much a ghost, but invisible ink scrawling my thoughts across this page of night. The future is but a tunnel lit by the advancing dance of the present. For a moment, I click my lights off. I know where I am going. I am calm. I am confident. But not so soon, I decide, not just yet, as I turn my lights back up just in time to stay on the road and catch this turn as my path leans left.

written on 08/03/2019 by: Matt Kane