A Stir In The Night
The silence was interrupted as Jake stirred, rubbing his eyes and glancing around, as if trying to reorient himself. “Do you ever miss people when you’re driving?” he asked softly, his sleepy gaze fixed on me. His voice carried the unguarded sincerity that only youth can hold. I paused, letting the question settle in the stillness. Memories of endless drives and empty highways came to mind, each mile etched with a quiet solitude I knew all too well. The loneliness of the open road had a weight of its own—one I had carried for years.
A Stir In The Night
Confessions Of Absence
“I do,” I said with a nod, a bittersweet smile playing on my lips. “Especially when it comes to family. There’s something special about small-town gatherings.” I recounted stories of festive holidays, the sound of laughter filling a crowded room. Jake listened intently, drawn in by the warmth of my words. Our voices softened as we exchanged memories, weaving them together like threads in a tapestry. It felt natural, sharing these moments—a quiet homage to the bonds that tie us to people and places beyond the horizon.
Confessions Of Absence
