Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • 3 Hours. It's a long time to be in a car, but not nearly the longest I had ever driven. I was not alone. I was in the company of 3 sleepy family members; but I was the driver, and as I drove I felt isolated in my thoughts.

    We were almost to Savannah and for the past two hours on Highway 16 I had taken notice of 3 cars driving alongside us. We were a convoy. Heck more than that, we practically knew each other. After all, we had been driving together at the same speed, down the same road for 2 hours now. Even though I was driving I had memorized every detail of the three cars. A white Ford Escape, a Maroon Ford Focus, and a Black Lexus. If they had been paying the same attention as myself, they would have noted a variety of bumper stickers on the back of my car, including one lobbying for the election of "Lincoln, 1860."

    Every 20 minutes or so, we traded positions at the front of our little convoy like a team on the Tour De France. We were close, yet we were strangers. We were together, yet we were in completely isolated realities. Or maybe we weren't. As much as I would like to think that they felt the same as I about our little convoy, I knew that this was unlikely. I had built a connection to three cars with drivers I had never met, nor did I know anything about.

    At one point, the Lexus tried to drive far ahead, and out of some unknown desire to keep them within site, I drove faster to keep up with them.
    Soon things began to deteriorate. As we grew closer to the city, the Ford Focus took an exit and was gone... No goodbye..
    No pause...
    No wave...
    Nothing...

    At the next exit, the final two cars turned as the exit lane opened in front of them...

    And suddenly, with no warning, our car was left alone. The sleeping and the sleepless.
    • Share

    Connected stories:

About

Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.