Yesterday's Storm

Five in the morning we set out on the road. My twin and I surrounded by the pre-dawn blackness, icy roads beneath us and yesterday’s storm piled in the gutters. The temperature inside is turned as warm as the car can manage, but the frigid outside still seeps through the glass and clouds the windows. Silence hangs heavy, and my mind wanders back the way I came.

Is our little brother still asleep? Have my parents gone back to bed after waving us farewell, or are they just starting their day like we are?

By seven, my little brother will be at the same high school, my dad at the same job, my mother managing our same family, the same routine as when we lived there. They keep on like always, with or without our presence.

I connect my phone to the car’s radio and fill the silence with the same music I’ve listened for years. The darkness fades to dawn so slowly I hardly notice.

We pass through the same construction that has been working its way down the freeway for many years. Seven lanes dwindle to two as city fades to farmlands. Cows dot the landscape, camouflaged by the snow, and I count the rest stops to track the time.

Nephi is half-way, Fillmore is forty minutes left, the large cattle ranch is thirty, and Parowan is fifteen.

We turn onto Burger Alley, and drive past our college before reaching home.

Everything is where I left it, My laundry in the hamper, my textbooks on my hastily made bed,

Life goes on around me.