Rules of the Road
17/05/2010
I-45 just south of Dallas is a flat straight piece of road that cuts across flat, straight and amazingly uninteresting terrain.
Call it the visual equivalent of Muzak.
Heap many moons ago, I subjected myself to this stretch of asphalt while on a brief road trip with my friend, Hector. Once we had exhausted all our small talk and chitchat about women and work, I turned my attention to the blur of landscape that streaked past my window. It wasn’t long before my mind began to wander.
I remembered a conversation I was having with a girl I used to work with. Sometimes, I’ll forget conversations outright. Sometimes, the memories of the content or people I have them with all blur together.
This one I remember.