Sunday Driver

She always took the back way, taking pleasure in the long drive. Stopping at the barns that sold antiques, keen on old treasures. Looking out for a rusted truck, or an old farmhouse standing crooked by a bare tree. In the summer she would drive with the windows down, watching the dust kick up from the tires in the side mirror. The breeze would carry off the tune of her music as she spent her afternoon travelling to the farmers markets. Driving until the back seat carried with it the aroma of the country. That’s how she knew she was home.

©️Heather Lynn Matthews

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