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Emily Budrow May 2015
Ten miles per hour, with smiles smeared onto our sweaty faces, we drive in silence, thinking.


Speeding through a yellow light, at twenty miles per hour, you turn the music up loud and glance at me. Wind whipping through the cars windows, tossing my hair every which way. Nothing else exists, just you and I in this timeless moment.

Thirty miles per hour. Screams of laughter and song lyrics spew out of the windows and into the night. Our singing voices bellowing through the warm Spring air. This very moment, I love you platonically. My heart bleeds emotion for you alone, I grip the steering wheel, and you grab my face and pull me in for a kiss.

At forty miles per hour,
we are in love.
For Anthony

— The End —