Free Easier to Run by Silver Rain

as we got started, but we sat in silence for a long while as we rolled along the interstate.
    “If I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?” I asked, watching the beautiful greenery along the side of the road.
    “I’m not sure that ultimatum ever really works, but yes. If necessary, I’ll restrain myself.”
    I snorted at him and shook my head.
    “If I’m not allowed to laugh, neither are you,” he said, glancing over briefly.
    “I want to be a photographer,” I said.
    “That’s great.” He paused for a long moment. “Is that what you thought I’d laugh at?”
    “Kind of,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to present yet another laughable disappointment. Photographer was far from marine biologist, but I had a lot of making up to do if I ever wanted to get an intensive academic career back on track. But after everything, I wasn’t even sure I wanted that. Science was never my strong suit anyway.
    “You know how many people laughed when I said I wanted to do this for a living?” Ben said while he dodged a string of traffic coming off of an onramp. “Do what makes you happy. Screw what anyone else thinks.”
    I took a long breath and sank into my seat. “My c-counselor in high school got me into it.” And I had really enjoyed it. Not only was it a way to express how I saw the world without words, it gave me a few moments of Zen where my mind quieted and the world seemed peaceful for a few moments. “It started as a way to keep me focused, and I figured it’d be something that wasn’t really people intensive. I was k-kind of wrong about that.”
    “You’ll do fine. You’re already doing better than yesterday.”
    “It’s always easier with you.” But how long would that last?
    ***
    By afternoon, the drama with Ben's girlfriend seemed like a distant memory, although I doubted that he felt the same. In some ways, things had reverted to a familiar ease between us—so similar to the days we used to spend together. It was almost enough for me to buy into the façade that I might have a normal life again.
    I didn't want it to end.
    I wanted to stay on the road forever and never think about going back home. Never think about the crazy and necessary worries of finding a job and a place to stay before my money ran out.
    That damn money.
    The only reason I was able to be here.
    But I didn't want it.
    Ben was off doing whatever the heck he had to do while his truck was being unloaded, leaving me to wander around the lot and the nearby convenience stores—they all seemed more catered toward truck drivers than general travelers.
    It didn't much matter though. It was a beautiful day wherever I was, and I decided not to waste it. I put together my camera and got it set up in the open grassy area near the lot. Calling it a park would be an overstatement, even though there were some odd benches and picnic tables scattered about for those truckers who wanted to stretch out and enjoy a snack.
    Or, judging from one guy curled up under a tree—take a nap.
    The summer temperatures had dropped. It was still mildly hot but comfortable, and the breezy air around me was light and peppered with the smell of fresh cut grass. Life felt different for a few moments. Not forced, tight and constricting. For the first time in years, I actually considered enjoying it. Maybe the future wouldn't be so bad.
    I sat down under a tree, stretching my legs out in front of me along the tall, skinny shadow of the trunk, and readied my camera. I lost track of time, snapping picture after picture of random squirrels tangling with trespassing birds, leaves floating to earth on the gentle breeze, and even a beautiful blue jay who came to rest on a nearby branch.
    “I was beginning to wonder where you'd run off to,” Ben said, leaning against the tree next to me.
    “Sorry,” I mumbled, concentrating on my final shot of the sun disappearing behind the trees that lined a hill in the distance. “Back to the road?”
    “For a while.”