Between the silhouettes of the two strangers in the driver and passenger seat my eyes wandered over the dashboard onto the twenty feet of ground before the car where the headlights, suffocated by the falling snow, formed a yellow spotlight on a stage of ever changing scenery. Tire tracks and brown clumps of ice over a winter wasteland.
The car was uncomfortably warm, a hot metal box rolling through the frozen night and in my removed position from the rear the vinyl of the back seat gave a loose feeling of unease as if an abrupt stop could easily gain me a lead role in the performance passing before us.
In the darkness the sounds of the car, all the hidden parts beneath the hood and below our feet, as well as the rhythmic cycle of the tires, became prominent, synchronizing with the snow rushing at the windshield.
And as the drone of the engine overlapped with the relentless noise of the heater fan the girl in the passenger seat tilted her head back slightly and released her voice, a clear sustained tone above the mechanical buzz.