Photo by Philipp Pilz on Unsplash
by Jenny Wong
She is behind the wheel, her route graveled and back-watered by moonlight, unaware she will eventually meet the only deer to cross the road that night.
Antlers appear first, tapered branches, a hard landing for snow, each tip as sharp as a mother’s point about leaving family behind.
Her hand does not reach to blare the horn (arrivals and departures need not require borders and announcements).
Instead, her foot presses on the brake.
The old gray Acura stills, the grumbling engine silenced with a quick twist of the key.
Flurries glint in headlights, cold swirling stars who’ve lost their fixed point in the sky, their glow magnified by wild moments caught in an animal’s eye, reminding her that even the darkest nights can change in the briefest of breaths, and there is too much light to ever feel alone on the road.
Jenny Wong is a writer, traveler, and occasional business analyst. She resides in Canada near the Rocky Mountains.
