The iridescent purple shade of dawn blooms across the sky, meeting between the retreating black of the night and the rising scarlet of the sun. The sublime silence of the early morning is only momentarily interrupted by the far-away noise of cars speeding down the highway.

Then, a sudden disruption, a grating noise like chains appears, and moments later a car appears behind what seems to be a wall. 

A rush of steps, a jingle of keys, and the sound of a door slamming. The vehicle roars to life—awakening from its slumber—tail lights flickering red like the waking of dream-drunk eyes. 

Crunching gravel—the tell-tale sound of rolling wheels—as the machine backs out into the illuminating dawn.

It rolls down the curved driveway, turning sharply to the left and onto the asphalt road before lazily drifting down the bend.

Inside the car, the subtle sound of rubber against the road is overruled by the rush of wind and chirping music.  The low beat of the drum is matched by the rapid tapping of fingers against the leather wheel.

The dashboard is covered with metallic green and meters of all kinds gauge the car. The gas meter hangs close to empty.

The girl in control of the vehicle reclines back into the car, wincing when a particularly sharp turn sends her schoolbag flying, slamming into the opposite door.

She reminds herself to learn to correct the ways to make sudden turns, lest she finally break something of importance and get scolded by her parents.

The girl’s preferred route is through a small quaint town. The checkered stone pattern of the sidewalk is dotted with small oaks, their fluffy tops braided with lights. White buildings loiter alongside the roads, store signs hang from balconies, and windows reflect the dim light produced by headlights.

Further along, the comfy roads of the town are no more, instead, replaced by sloping hills and collapsing valleys. Enormous trees, unlike those in town, tower over the road. Occasionally, small critters bounce across the black tar between passing cars. 

At last, the girl sighs, the end of her journey is near. The final turn, up a snake-like road, guides her to a crowded lot.

Cars honk and engines die, students spill from doors and surge towards the entrance to the school.

The girl follows suit, parking her car, and carefully opening her door. Today was not her first time driving here nor will it be her last. It is an everyday routine, a repeating cycle, from the roaring of her car to the endless sputter of its extinguished engine.