Its a place we find ourselves at quite often and its a place that is so far out of reach. Its a place where the starlit sky is endless and the heavens arent too far above. Its a place well go to slip out of reality and experience what its like to actually breathe. Its a place to relax and its a place to feel alive. Its a place called 216th street. Its a pretty lengthy drive indeed, but the drive to this dark, desolate road is just the beginning. You can feel the anticipation building up, like a roller coaster crawling its way to the top before it plunges to the ground. It is the most genuine high possible. We will pass the high school and the urban neighborhoods. We will even pass the local pizza joint and the Walgreens. Soon enough, these landmarks of civilization will slowly disintegrate as we further isolate ourselves from home.
Its about a quarter to eight and by now the last of the light is fading away. The cities lights are disappearing little by little, like a lantern being turned down, and the only fixation we are forced to rely on to see now comes from the man in the moon, the configuration of stars scattered throughout the threatening, black sky, and the blinding headlights from our cars.
Its a cool, spring night with a chilling breeze and a whistle in the air. Anna and I always drive with our windows down and the sunroof open. Her feet are propped just by the side view mirror and my left arm relentlessly hangs out the driver side window, playing with the wind as it gradually sways in different directions. Theres nothing better than the easing sound of the grass blades and cornhusks brushing against...