We’d driven all over the state, the miles passing like a rushing river in a sudden spring rain. It wouldn’t do really, us being together, that is. She was from a different background than I was, a different class, far too refined to spend any sort of life with me. Her car worked all the time, it always started, one of them Toyotas I believe. Made me a bit uncomfortable, really. People I’d always been around never knew if they’d get where they were going on any given day. Volkswagens, american cars, unclassic relics from someone else’s childhood.
Needless to say, on this road trip we drove her car. No hotels, no campgrounds, just a soft shoulder on the side of a cliff with a construction site dirt berm for privacy, and a big blue tarp to envelope our time on the side of the road. There had to be at least two dozen rules against our unplanned happenstance there, but neither she or I stopped to read the signs.
We awoke to a different look in each other’s eyes, and the fire was still burning that morning suspended in a soft falling rain as we drove on.