It's 3 o'clock in the morning and we're going 90 down the cold interstate.
Having just left the cafe, we sing-yell along to our music as loudly and obnoxiously as we usually do. Only briefly do we make eye-contact as you glance over at your blindspots.
Hitting a couple bumps in the pavement, you start to turn down the volume. Looking at me as the road starts to curve, you say you find the road's weaknesses to be reassuring.
I ask you what you mean by that, and you say "everything has it's imperfections"
Together we sat in silence.