Author: A·
I don’t like to drive.
At least, not when there are people in my car,
Nor if the trio is too short.
I find myself liking long drives alone, with the music of my choice.
During the day, seeing the landscape evolve into something else
As time passes and I drive by.
But at night, everything seems different.
When I pass through villages with yellow streetlights,
memories come flooding my mind.
Christmas was always at my grandparents’. We went midafternoon for a traditional walk
Followed by some songs, poems, and stories around the decorated tree.
Then the gifts and the copious meal: it took hours to finish the many courses and desserts.
We left after it was long dark outside,
My parents always played the same disc
The radio wasn’t entertaining that late at night.
The trip back was about two hours long,
I usually ended up sleeping most of it.
But there always were those moments, some minutes after departure,
When the sleepiness hasn’t kicked in yet,
I would listen to the music while absently looking at the lights outside.
The quiet sound of the car engine and the driving motion
Rocking me to sleep. Happy and content with the time spent with family.
Those are nice memories from my past.
Nowadays when we go eat at my grandparents, I drive on the way back,
While my parents sleep in the backseats.
Still listening to the same music.