Nightly cravings

I call him the Two-tone bird (his repertoire is limited to two tones) and he announces the arrival of spring. The days are getting longer, the snowflakes are fewer, the sun shines more often and melts the ice on the highway. For me, that means less sweating and more speed on my commute. I even start to enjoy the nightly drives and race through endless dark forests at 100km/hour. Sometimes, the clouds clear the sky and the pale moonlight helps my weak headlights illuminate the road. The music of my only CD Celtic Myst crackles from the speakers and as the name suggests, the songs are truly mystical and cheesy. My mind is free and my heart is wide open. The only thing that disrupts my peace of mind are the idiots coming towards me with full beam lights. After cursing a few times, I dive back into my infinite contentment and drive meditatively towards my bed. To complete my nightly happiness, I become a victim of my cravings and buy a chocolate bar from the Indian guy with the turban at the gas station. I never share it.

The nighttime highway is like life. Even though you can only see 50 meters (or rather 30 meters in my Dodge), you trust that there is a road that continues. And so, trilling along the center line, you follow into the unknown and look forward to chocolate.