MatthewJ845's Journal

 Road Closed

Laura was never a presumptuous girl. Hidden behind her long twisted trails of hair, which twisted over her face, lied two eyes of deep capsules of sapphire. Not the kind which showed innocence or naivety, but instead a tainted color of struggle and witness.
    She bend down on her knees to unlace her old converse; beaten and scorn with her many local travels. Meticulously widening the hole, she worked her feet yet one more time into the shoes. Over a pool of linoleum scratched and gouged, she then tied the cloth laces.
    Before venturing out the front door she took one last look behind her shoulder, noticing the eerie way her once warm golden walls were now blue and cold. With her hand on the knob, she then proceeded into the dank winter air of rural Pennsylvania.
    Quietly closing the prodigious wooden door, Laura tip-toed onto the planks of warped wood of the deck she remembered helping her father craft. Like every day, she counted the three large knots embedded into the hearty beige wood.
    One.
    Two.
    Three.
    The steps leading down off the deck were of similar condition; slightly worn, but still resembling their original appearance. Each step screeched irritably as Laura's foot graced it's slightly flexible surface.
    The walk-way to the driveway wasn't a typical one. A wealth of varied sheets of slate made up the whimsical windy trail to the cold absolute asphalt. As if it was left in the care of Mother nature, some sheets bent upwards in corners and down in others. Some were cracked, some missing, all characters Laura recognized.
    Stepping over the jagged corners and compensating in the sunken gullies, Laura navigated towards the unplowed asphalt. Her shabby black Converse made it's first contact with the blacktop, crunching into the untouched snow and ice. The crunch made Laura chuckle a bit inside, and made time pass a bit faster while she located her 1993 Ford sedan.
    Looking back, she noticed her footprints weaving rhythmically through winter's best.  She  wished  she would  have walked along the edges. Damn.
    Using the cuff of her sweater, she carefully wiped off the snow accumulated on her car's windshield and door. As her warm joints plowed through the freshly fallen snow, the melt-off soaked the white hoodie. The now gray cuff annoyed Laura, but she needed to see.
    Opening the door of the relic automobile, she grabbed the key from her pocket and started the engine. The rumbling muffled roar of the well weathered motor vibrated her All-Stars and tremored her thighs. Thoroughly inspecting the gas meter, the oil level, and the water temperature Laura decided to begin her ride.
    The tires of her car smashed the snow and ice into the crevasses of the pavement, creating another trail behind the roaring Ford. In the rear-view mirror, which carried four or five ancient air fresheners, a "God bless this driver" emblem, and some mardi gras beads, Laura could see these parallel prints of black and white. She wished the driveway was plowed.
    Pulling onto the rural community road, serene in it's picturesque promiscuity, Laura trekked away less than half the speed limit into the dank morning horizon.
    Piece by piece, the glacier-like chunks of ice on the roof fell into the black sea below, splattering on contact. By the fourth turn signal, all the snow was gone, finally exposing the minimally weathered roof. The small amount of sun out that day found the roof and gleamed for only those above it to notice. Needless to say, Laura didn't notice.
    Laura caught a glimpse of a blinking safety-orange sign ahead. Upon moving closer, she could then read the words.
    "Road Closed"
    With the deep feeling of disappointment in her head, she tapped her untamed fingernails on the vinyl steering wheel.
    Without thought those damp black Converse floored the loose pedal sending the horses to snort and charge.
    The sounds were overwhelming in the sporty compact's cabin. Vibrations rattled all the possessions within the 93', including Laura. The hood shook and clamored. The wheel bit into the wet wintry ground, propelling the tin car into the unknown.
    With a coy smile on the lips of Laura, her eyed were fixated on the road ahead. She didn't care to look back.