The wide three-lane tarmac was grey and grainy, almost like a shaved head of a punk with harsh undergrowth slowly but surely springing up from a smooth pale of a scalp. They stopped shortly at the shoulder; for a change, she wanted to drive. He put gear in parking, pulled up the hand brake, and switched the emergency blinkers. He climbed out and shook his feet. She sensed the cold crispy air of December midday with the meek sun intermittently hiding behind the heavy clouds spread throughout the milky grey skies. Somewhere far away straight ahead though the clouds were defeated by pure transparent blue color, unreachable, right under the horizon, in the very distance of endless tarmac.
She quickly climbed out of her seat shaking from this sudden attack of cold, ran around the car, sneaked through the ajar door into the driver’s seat and hastily shut the door. She was astonished by the sound and the speed cars were zooming past them, with the anger, hurry and resolve to be somewhere other than this road, to reach the familiar, important to them destinations, in no time, ASAP, fast. The speed—the thrill of it, intrigued her, she wanted to test herself. After all, since she started driving some two months ago, she drove cautiously, adhering to all the rules, slowly growing into it, feeling the car, its brakes, wheels, listening to the engine, testing the maneuverability of the machine and quickness of her own responses. She was comfortable and content to stay at 40 mph.… She started reluctantly driving on the shoulder of the tarmac warily looking over to her left and side mirror, try to squeeze into this crazy running heard of the cars and tracks dangerously close to their vehicle, flying past them with throbbing low growl.
Finally, she managed to get into the lane, patiently waiting till there were no cars left within the sight. This amused her hubby. Though he used to saying better “comfortable” than sorry, expression she hardly appreciated. Comfort/Comfortable?! Getting out and doing something fresh, unusual is never about comfort, she thought. But then, usually she was the one being more cautious. It took her two months to start driving independently. Well not quite, so far on all their trips, short or long, he was always in the car at her side…besides, for everyone else driving was never considered something unusual or new, by no means. It is ironic, she thought. She might have had thousands of other unique experiences alas, driving 100mph at age forty-four, would be new to her. She accelerated to 60, and tried to adjust to the speed. It seemed OK.
She started slowly stepping onto the gas and saw the arrow on the speedometer gradually reaching 70, then 75. Enough for now, she thought, let’s see how the engine will keep up without the boost. She removed the foot from the pedal and kept it on left , right above the brake, she was proud of herself…Car was still rolling at 70, then she saw the arrow gradually dropping to 65 and below and up again to 70 after she accelerated. She slowed a bit to enjoy the view ahead. The sky was merging the upcoming incline of the road, hilly landscape and tall fur trees standing like sentinels along the tarmac rapidly substituted the flat open fields of pale short grass and dry faded bushes. They finally reached that clear blue place of the skies that seemed so distant some twenty minutes ago. The descending sun playing hide and seek with the crowns of the trees, now was reflected in the side mirror on her right, where he sat. She wondered whether he enjoyed it as much as she. Should she point it to him in case he was not noticing? She definitely wanted to share it with him, with anyone, with everyone. The sights of blue skies, tree branches and pale lemon-like sun reflected by the mirror in sync with the car’s movement and were simultaneously uploaded with the speed of 70 mph on her memory disc.
