Late-Night Drive

It was the last night before Winter Break was up. I was getting restless. All my friends were back at their schools already. I had visited one of my friends going to school near home, but other than that, I had been on my own. It was relaxing, the solitude, but I was itching for some contact other than watching Desperate Housewives on TV with my stepmother. I got in my car and headed out, unsure of where the night would take me.

I drove down the interstate, absently driving along roads I had traveled many times before. This stretch of highway led me to points north in my life: my summer rowing club. My university boat house. College.

Without even realizing it, I had driven to the town where my summer rowing club was. The highway snaked along adjacent to the river. In the moonlit darkness, the water looked crystalline. The ice that had formed over the past few days of frigid winds and below freezing temperatures had broken apart along the bridges spanning its width. Despite the cold air whipping by the outside of my car, I longed to be out on the river in a single, silently sweeping across the shimmering water. No matter, even if it was nice and sunny out, I would be stuck to the car seat with my bad back.

I eventually turned around and headed to an all-night diner that specialized in quick, greasy food. Fuck my weight. I needed comfort food that night. I ordered some fries and sat, munching and thinking. And waiting. Waiting for my back to recuperate so I could satisfy a much stronger hunger.