Hoorah, I have arrived safely in Quito! Here is a revised excerpt from my journal this morning, written in the present tense, for experimental purposes.
We slowly approach the light at Bellona and Charles. "You said the car stops making noise eventually?" In its old age, our legally-adult Subaru is squeaking like wet shoes on the kitchen floor.
"It usually stops right here at this light." I wait for her to be proven wrong as the intersection is just meters away, but faithfully, Old Red quiets down just as we eased into the right turn. I squint at the road in the darkness. Sometimes when it is this dark and quiet, it's hard for me to imagine the sun will ever rise from its slumber.
"Deer," I say matter-of-factly. There are five of them crossing the stretch of road ahead, their obscured shapes hardly distinguishable from the poorly lit street in the dim glow of our headlights. Mom slows in time to let them pass. Hitting a family of deer sure would have been an interesting reason to have missed my flight to Quito. I watch the strips of white tick by as the Allman Brothers' Band plays from the radio and I notice I'm surprisingly alert for this early in the morning. I laugh out loud, reading a sign.
"Spend Time w/ Family
Not in Jail
Drive Sober."
Maybe I shouldn't have laughed.
"Oh yeah, we passed one saying the same thing a little while ago," says Mom.
I guess my mind is somewhere else.
Also just a heads up -- I will probably not post anything for at least another week because I'll be at the beach with limited WiFi access.
Songs I've been listening to: Ningún Nombre, Ningún Lugar by Xoel López and Don't Swallow the Cap by The National
"It usually stops right here at this light." I wait for her to be proven wrong as the intersection is just meters away, but faithfully, Old Red quiets down just as we eased into the right turn. I squint at the road in the darkness. Sometimes when it is this dark and quiet, it's hard for me to imagine the sun will ever rise from its slumber.
"Deer," I say matter-of-factly. There are five of them crossing the stretch of road ahead, their obscured shapes hardly distinguishable from the poorly lit street in the dim glow of our headlights. Mom slows in time to let them pass. Hitting a family of deer sure would have been an interesting reason to have missed my flight to Quito. I watch the strips of white tick by as the Allman Brothers' Band plays from the radio and I notice I'm surprisingly alert for this early in the morning. I laugh out loud, reading a sign.
"Spend Time w/ Family
Not in Jail
Drive Sober."
Maybe I shouldn't have laughed.
"Oh yeah, we passed one saying the same thing a little while ago," says Mom.
I guess my mind is somewhere else.
Also just a heads up -- I will probably not post anything for at least another week because I'll be at the beach with limited WiFi access.
Songs I've been listening to: Ningún Nombre, Ningún Lugar by Xoel López and Don't Swallow the Cap by The National