The White Line
She blinked a couple of times as she stared at the White Line on the road, it's luminescence greater in the evening. The lights from the car spread out around them, blanketing the road in a dim light, fuzzy and somewhat cold looking despite the hot evening. The White Line sped by beside them, sometimes bright and newly painted to be followed by a dingy gray color from where tire tracks had left their mark. Her mind was numb and she barely thought of anything as she stared at the line, letting her eyes droop every once in a while, sitting in the passenger seat with her Father driving. Here in front of the neighborhoods on their way home the Line broke, there it was barely visible from road construction and the red clay that had been moved along the side of the road. Now it completely disappeared from the weeds , only to return again. The line was never completely straight. It wavered and curved with the road, and though its blemishes made it sometimes indistinct from the black top, it was still the White Line.
She rested her head against the seat and let her eyes glaze over yet they were still fixed on the Line. Other cars sped by on the opposite side of the road, but by staring at the Line she avoided being blinded by them. A feeling of restlessness came over her, anxious to be home and to get to bed. The car hit a pothole and she opened her eyes wider, letting more light in which woke her up some, and she let her eyes wander from the White Line. As she did a car flashed past, blinding her and leaving her eyes with spots in them that hindered her from seeing the Line clearly for a while.
They reached her neighborhood and the White Line disappeared completely. She finally looked up at where they were going and at the top of their hill she looked up to see stars, thousands of them that had been invisible in the city, but were now clear and bright where she lived. The car turned down their driveway and the light from the front porch glowed warm and inviting. She was home.