And then what?

We were driving into the dark freeways of Maryland or Virginia - I'm not sure which one since the states here are so close together -  and so literally white marks were about the only thing that reached out to our eyelashes. The green trees at night absorb even more color. We were talking about our lives, as car rides usually succumb to, because it's a time where you can just stare at what is in front of you, listen to the light radio waves around you, and also feel that you are going somewhere. We were going somewhere. Our conversation shifted into about what we would accomplish in life. Getting a partner, getting a car, buying a house. And my friend had just bought a house - at our young age - which to many people would be the epitome of the so-called "American dream."





"...and then what?"


There was a pause in his speech as I stared off into the dark abyss that laid before us. The question and the abyss coincided perfectly at that moment. I had no answer nor did it seem that he wanted one.  We were going somewhere, and I suppose that's all that really mattered.