a highway - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
In the city the highway was black and fresh, yellow paint as perfect as a child's picture book. Now that that towers and lingering suburbia is long behind us, those sunny stripes are aged with hairline cracks. The central line is a metal barrier no longer, instead a meter of scrubby grass baked golden is all that separates the east and west bound. The tyres bring a monotony as they sail over the weary grey beneath and the only thing to knock a driver from their stupor is a passing vehicle or a radio cranked to the max.
..What do you think our our highway? I found these roads so different when I first came to Canada. They scared me with their two or three lanes in both directions - and it’s just a regular road really. A decade ago a lot of them didn't even have "cats eyes," combine that with no streetlights and heavy rain in the dead of night and no-one slowing down... it isn't like that now though, in the spring sunshine it's a benign swathe of tired grey with white painted lines and for the most part quite straight. I guess it's like the English motorways I used to drive on, but here there are traffic lights since it connects different parts of the city. As long as the traffic doesn’t snarl up they're pretty fast...
Found in Are you awake yet? - first draft, authored by .