No Destination by Sol Carrasco

Hand out the window, the world passing through the palm of my hand. Conversations become whispers flying in the wind. That breeze plucking secrets, stealing stories from the other cars cruising by. Clouds rolling lazily in a dazzling sky. Music blares through the speakers, radio turned almost all the way up. Yet the heavy melodies blend into the background. 

“Where are we going?” 

Looking over at the driver’s seat I chuckle. It’s a silly idea to get in the car and start driving with no predetermined destination. Hell, I haven’t the slightest idea where we should go next. The need to do everything and nothing stirs so much inside that picking one location seems absurd.

“Anywhere, everywhere,” I marveled. 

My driver sighs, but I know it’s for the small drama of it all. My answer was obviously not the one expected, I usually have a destination in mind. Some small or big plans up my sleeve. They are the one that often suggests just driving around while I typically bounce around ideas of what to do next. Yet being with them, I realized I like not having a next step. There’s a charming thrill in being the only two people in a space that keeps moving forward. A certain magic to just driving around, not actually participating in day to day life. But instead observing bits and pieces by drifting pass it. Random decisions to turn left or right. Speeding by houses, restaurants, shops, parks, and all the rest of it. What’s the point of being anywhere? We can drive into the night, pass by all of reality.

 There’s so much to watch, open windows on every side of me and ever-changing scenery, but my gaze always reverts back to them. Trees and buildings blend together, working as his backdrop. Sunlight bouncing off of sunglasses that continue to look forward, unfazed by the world around. Soaking in the music, occasionally singing along or humming the tune. In the hot air, they look cool. Refreshing in a way that no one else could fill. 

“Why are you staring at me?”

I’m trying not to stare but when the essence of existence is being played out next to me, how can I not try to take it all in? Words dancing in my head, attempting to figure out a poem or short story or anything to capture these moments. Every word comes to mind, but not a single one vivid enough to describe this. So is there a way to answer his question? No, I don’t think I can explain how his traveling to nowhere with me means everything. That his constant state of being is the only understandable aspect in fleeting totality. How staring at him inspires me to never stop writing about the awe of life. There’s not an answer in the universe I could give that would satisfy my own state of mind.

“Well, why not?” I reply with a shrug. Turning my head away, I stare out the front window instead. It’s the best I can do to not limit the possibilities. All I can do now is watch the scenery and cast the occasional glance in hopes that my previous staring didn’t bother him too much. 

“That’s not good enough, it doesn’t answer the question.” 

Swinging my head back towards them, my jaw drops in shock. The wasn’t even the last answer I would expect, it was the back of the shelf forgotten answer that I didn’t think would be picked out. They were right, I didn’t answer the question. Yet is it possible to answer something that has no direction? For the first time during this car ride, I’m at a loss for words.  

The car stops for the first time in what has felt like forever. Safe behind a red light, he takes off his sunglasses and for a split second looking over at me with one eyebrow raised, asking well? But all I saw was the endless possibilities of futures I could never have whirling around in his eyes. 

“It’s green,” I point out.