I can still feel that low hum or deep ohm of the motor harmonizing with the dim yellow, vibrating dash lights. I remember laying over on my left side with my head in my mothers lap as she drove us home. I often staired up through the windshield and watched the trees and telephone poles flicker by as my eyes stayed focused on the still white moon. The bumps in the road always put me to sleep and then woke me back up again. The radio played in the background barely audible as we wound our way home on those long country roads. My mind was empty of all the frustrations and disappointments of the now forgotten day. There was only the warm air from the heater vents moving over the contours of my face. I was at peace in that car on those nights and now part of me can't help but regret that we never crashed and died on one of those late night drives, when everything was just right.