Setting Up

Old friends, grown apart not by distance but by lifestyle, found themselves together one night.

They lived closely so they drove with each other. It was dark but many lights braved the empty roads and cold conditions. Light reflected far away from the car: the darkest places were the ones that were closest to it.

As they talked they both silently wished they could never get off that freeway, just drive forever, without worry. Sometimes abandoning responsibility is not a distant dream but is highly accessible and one finds himself reflecting on his apparently newfound responsibility.

So finally they had to part. And they promised each other to call, to set someting up to talk again.

But it was all theatre: they liked each other but neither really thought they'd find the time to catch up. And they didn't. But each remembered how he'd promised to work on setting something up and each mildly, facetiously, colloquially scolded himself whilst remembering he hadn't been the one to make the call.