The Road Trip

We drove past the cornfields.

Rows and rows of cornfields

The road stretched and yawned before us

As The Doobie Brothers’ “Black Water”

Played on the staticky radio

We passed a large body of water

Shimmering in the summer sun

As the heat licked my forehead

And sweat dripped down my leather back

The can of cream soda sizzles as Jenna

Clicks back the tab

And knocks it back

She lets out a long belch

And we scream in laughter.

We pass 18-wheelers

Minivans

Sedans

Each car tells a story

Carries a human with emotional baggage.

We stop at a motel for the evening

And then start back up the next morning.