In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Happy Wanderer.”

It’s time…actually it’s way over due. A road trip is the only thing that can cure this need for escape; this lust for adventure; this hunger for new vistas; this thirst for conquest; this drive to nowhere; this drive to everywhere. To the land where clocks and calendars and phones have no power, to distract, to cast and reel the breath of life out of me.

I need to get in the car and drive…away…fast…without a rear view mirror. Where will I go? It doesn’t matter…north, south, east, west? Pick one. What? Only one? I want them all! What shall I pack? I don’t need much…my joggers, a GPS, some music, gas in the tank, money in the wallet, pedal to the metal…away I go in a cloud of dust. Destination? Nowhere just yet, anywhere but here. Time of arrival? Depends on when I run out of go; out of drive; out of stress. It depends on all those things that push and propel me to get in the car and drive away. How many hours? How many days? Oh what luxury to drive to anywhere for weeks on end before being recalled to the place of my beginning. Such fantasy!

One of these days…perhaps soon. I’m going to get in my car for no other purpose than to drive; and I’ll say to myself…today is the day. Let’s just drive…away.