The garage door opened. She rolled down the window, letting the moist air seep in. She leaned a little forward and breathed deeply, but the air was so heavy, so humid, it was work to breathe it back out again.
At this time of night, a warm, pink haze melted everything out of focus. She thought the car next to them in the parking lot was pulling away, until she realized they had started to drive. Disoriented, she looked over to him to situate herself.
He was young, with wavy brown hair that rippled away from his face. He seemed uncomfortable in his faded jeans and green track jacket, collar folded upward, as if someone else had dressed him. She noticed his worn, black Converses, and then noticed how his long foot almost eclipsed the pedal.
“So you don’t like driving much, then?” he asked, before he pulled out onto the highway. A bent, yellow metal sign next to them read: “HEAVY MERGE AHEAD.”
I’ll say, she thought.
“No, I don’t. Especially not over the Bay Bridge.”
very pretty. I loved it, from open to close. The descriptions are all wonderful and vivid, I felt many of the descriptions had symbolic meaning, that they were doing the work of telling the story.
I wished for a tiny bit more about the protagonist, if only to get a slightly more clear picture of why she didn't exactly want to go home. One sentence, one clause would have done. I'm guessing her reluctance to talk about the bridge means something traumatic happened on it, but I'm not sure. I bet you want that ambiguity, but it frustrated me, a little.
I really liked the driver. He seemed so wise. Also- who know's what's down there? His cheek twitched.
Funny.
A lot of really great lines like that. "The seagull was still another conversation away." Great.
Thanks for writing this, I really enjoyed it.
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