back of my hand

Drove back up to the NSW countryside tonight. Just me and the trucks on the road, and the mournful roadkill - ignored and re-driven over endlessly.

I'm glad I'm familiar with the roads. Some of the turns on the single lane roads might be a bit alarming at night, otherwise. But I feel like I could sail through without headlights on. Know them like the back of my hands.

The car is my steed. We go humming along together. Hug the turns. Follow the groove. I watch the white line to avoid the glare of the approaching headlights. We sit tight together and tail the trucks - does the slipstream help, or is it just my imagination?

I think about so many different things when I'm driving along on my own. Sing. Remember things.

Nothing seems to change much. A pot-hole gets fixed, the trees start blooming, creating eerie night-lit avenues. Red light, green light, accelerate.

With miles of duel-highway to spare, some city driver overtakes me and and as soon as their bumper is in front of me, puts on their indicator and move in front. As if they didn't notice they could have just stepped on it, and disappeared into the horizon.
I on the other hand reveal my true colours in city traffic when I leave a 'healthy distance' between me and the vehicle in front - a space big enough that people behind me zip past to take the space!

The speed limits make me ache. Not a car in sight. Kilometres of straight, open road - and many K's still to travel. 110kmph. Or was that 115? No one will notice a couple more, will they?

*

Speaking of hand-backs, don't you hate when you moisturise your hands that you have to have it on both sides, when really its just the back side of your hands that get dry? A luxury problem, I know. Nonetheless.