Your prompt today? Old country roads.
Kat and I will be returning to Vancouver tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have some pictures and stories to share.
The truck rumbles through the countryside, a dusty cloud trailing in its wake. It has been a long, hot summer and the fields on either side of the arrow straight road are as dry as the path that divides them. Johnny Cash is on the ancient, crumbling stereo singing Down There By The Train and the man behind the wheel knows enough to not make it a duet.
The driver's side window is rolled all the way down and a deeply tanned elbow is jutting out into the still, hot air. One hand rests casually at the top of the cracked leather steering wheel and keeps the truck in the middle of the road with an easy grace.
His eyes scan the fields, the road ahead, the distant hills. He is in no rush to reach his destination and so is content in enjoying the journey. It is not always this way, with no clock ticking incessantly in his mind, no hourglass spilling sand faster than the old V8 engine can propel him forward.
But then his eyes linger in the rear-view mirror for a few moments, even though there is nothing to see but dust and more dust. Perhaps he sees amongst the swirling particles the face of the woman he's left behind. Perhaps he sees the boy he once was but never will be again. Perhaps he sees his father's face for one final time.
Regardless of what he sees, he drives on.