I drive the sleepiest highway in America. It can be in the morning, afternoon or evening and driving on this road makes me tired. Pass out at the wheel tired.
Maybe it’s the hum of the tires as they cleave to the asphalt. Or the vibration of the steering wheel in my hands. Or the fact that it is such a lonely highway that I put it on cruise control and drive for almost thirty miles without once having to apply the brakes.
It’s not just me. Hubby has driven this stretch, with and without me, and he agrees that there is something mesmerizing about this road.
The bad part is I drive it everyday. Twice a day.
I’ve tried to spice it up with music, singing, talking to myself and other drivers. Nothing completely works. It’s the road. This bewitched dreamy road.
As soon as I get off I’m alert as nothing has happened.
This would be the perfect alien abduction road.
Maybe it’s the hum of the tires as they cleave to the asphalt. Or the vibration of the steering wheel in my hands. Or the fact that it is such a lonely highway that I put it on cruise control and drive for almost thirty miles without once having to apply the brakes.
It’s not just me. Hubby has driven this stretch, with and without me, and he agrees that there is something mesmerizing about this road.
The bad part is I drive it everyday. Twice a day.
I’ve tried to spice it up with music, singing, talking to myself and other drivers. Nothing completely works. It’s the road. This bewitched dreamy road.
As soon as I get off I’m alert as nothing has happened.
This would be the perfect alien abduction road.
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