” The Van’s wheels glide on the empty road. The headlights flicker out. Out of the six pieces of glass installed in the van at it’s birthplace outside Detroit, three remain. Between it’s trip from there to the below freezing temperatures of Colorado, it’s lost some windows. Out of the Five passengers, only two are awake. The headlights aren’t missed, the moon’s full. The mountains are bright with snow. visible breath flows from the back seat to the front. It’s quiet besides the constant sound of wheels on undamaged highway. The driver fumbles around with a bag of cassettes, using his feet to accelerate, using his other hand to adjust the boombox secured by bungee cords to the center console.

“there’s no music for this occasion”, say the awake passenger in the back seat.

The driver, freezing slowly, looks at the passenger, then at the others, asleep. He glances at the unchanging road; then to the glove box, which he knows is filled with cell phones. Cell phones with out a second of charge.
The driver looks at the girl in the passenger seat.”

-babble, by Evan Gorman.