Her feet are bare and high on the dashboard. Her hair tucked into that baseball cap while blonde strands, the ones she lets fall out, blow Across her smile.
There’s no Spotify, no iPod, no CDs. She found a country radio station. He drives fast, she thinks.
He drives fast for this old truck, but she feels safe.
His elbow hangs out the window while he gently holds the wheel,
and his other hand holds her hand, gently. They haven’t said a word to each other in an hour.