KURT VILE

After stopping at the Cumbys, we were off. The Big Cheese cards and Snicker wrappers carpeted the floor as our heads ached with every sip. Then we stopped at a red. We sat there tapping our feet agitatedly in unison as he thumped the steering wheel and anxiously glanced upwards. It was too nice out and we were too excited to be pinned in this clustered city for the next minute. The light flashed green and we dipped a left onto route 8. As we continued driving and hills began to replace buildings while the warm wind pushed my hand back, I was glad to finally be moving at the same the pace of the day. I pulled my arm back in and glanced down at the cluttered floor, grabbing the ipod with a certain song in mind: 

KURT VILE - FREEWAY