A heavy sigh, staring out the window. Trees, grass, signs flew by.
'Are we there yet?' asked for the third time in forty-two minutes. 'Not yet.'
Feet kicking the seat, Mum yelling.
Fewer signs, more trees. Another heavy sigh.
Sleep. Bored to sleep. Better than bored to death.
'Are we there yet?' No.
'Are we there yet?' NO.
'Are we there--' SHUT UP.
More signs, fewer trees.
Buildings, blacktop, sidewalks.
Slowing down. A turn.
Then the sweetest words any child could hear after a long drive: 'We're here.'
Created: Apr 29, 2017figmenta_urimaginashun Document Media