She tunes the radio to a classical station. I think about wrestling with the dial but kill the thought before I give it wings. Really… What do I care? It’s a long drive, it doesn’t bother me if its the Rolling Stones or Rachmaninov keeping me awake, though my guess is the Stones would do a better job of it.
She looks out her side window resting her head in her open hands, as field after field glides past and I wonder what it is she’s looking at. Her feet are up on the dash and her knees support her elbows. The sun is setting behind her, highlighting her silhouette her face soft with golden light.
In this light she could be anyone, any siren from history. Any true beauty that has ever been muse to an artistic soul, from cave painting to the silver screen. She is that timeless woman. She draws a long sigh and I see a smile appear at the side of her mouth, her aimless thinking has hit something satisfying. She exhales as I turn my eyes back toward the road. I hold my hands on the wheel at 12 and 3 and look at my wedding ring as it catches the last rays of sunlight. I lift my foot off the accelerator slightly; I can make this last just a little bit longer.