The road stretched out ahead of them. Weathered, cracked, well traveled and experienced, it stretched for miles in either direction, with not a soul in sight. Along it's edges, fields of golden wheat stood in place. Blowing in the wind, their stalks defiant in their stance, but too cowardly to hitch a ride on the wind like it's friend the Dandelion, (who coincidentally left in order to avoid the ridicule he sustained at the hands of peers over his name). The sun swam by lazily allowing the waves of clouds to wash over it's head, submerge, surface, submerge, surface, peaking out to take breaths of air, and back down it went.
"What do you suppose that sun does when it's behind them clouds, Frank?"
"I'm not too sure. Probably has someone bigger to report to, ya know? Maybe when them clouds cover it up like that, sun's tell the rest of world how we live, what we're like."
"You really think so?"
"Nah, I can't say for sure, who can. Try and keep up will you?"
"Sorry."
--------to be continued maybe?
