Climbing the Confines

Passing worn pavement at 75 miles per hour, my extended hand glides on top of the air. I close my eyes for a split second just to see if I can. When I open them I realize we're all silently looking at the passing cars and foliage, music flowing from the speakers to our senses. We're in the time of silence, when all that immediately needed to be said has been said. There is nothing we don't know about one another. Only the things we've always wanted to say but haven't are hidden away in the dark corners of our minds. I snap back into reality.
I am wasting money, I am wasting time, I should be home, but I am following a pipe dream to a city 400 miles away.
And
I
feel
free.
Placating dreams of living life to the fullest, I push the thoughts aside.
"Oh cause I can see your ships from here, now all the weather so bright and clear", he belts off the stage into the crowded theatre. His violin sends a sweet melodic sound that flows from the speakers to our senses. We are assigned to a movement constricting seating arrangement. We have seats 10, 11, and 12, all of about 4 ft. to move with the music. There are senior citizens everywhere, maintaining the peace by asking people to stay in there seats. When our restlessness climbed to a slow boil, we pushed over the confines and past the senior ushers, dancing our way down the aisle to the front of the stage, Mr. Bird providing the soundtrack to our recklessness.
And
I
feel
free.