The snow pelted his face, stinging his cheeks and nose as he tromped on through the knee-deep drifts looking for tire ruts on the covered road. The wind gave no consideration to the discomfort it brought him and he likewise, gave it no thought.
His attention was dominated by Judas Priest in his headphones tucked under his wool cap. The duelling guitars brought him all the comfort he needed on this winter trek. It permeated his heart and filled him with a sense of companionship he had never felt with any friend.
His music was his friend. A friend he had such love for this arduous journey seemed like beautiful one-on-one time he could give himself to fully, almost like a guilty pleasure. There were no parents, no sisters, no telephones or other distractions. Just the driving wind and eight inches of snow to plod through.
A smile warmed his face as he realized he was the only person experiencing this moment … lucky bastard.
Suddenly there was a pickup truck next to him. He hadn’t heard it over the chords of “Rock Hard Ride Free” and it gave him a bit of a startle.
An old man had rolled his window down and was saying something to him he couldn’t hear. He pulled off the walkman headset.
“Do you need a ride?” the man repeated.
“No thanks,” Greg smiled.
The old man looked at him incredulously. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yah, I’m fine.” Greg pulled the headphones back on and plodded on. The old man drove on shaking his head.
Greg had to laugh to himself at the thought of leaving this perfect moment. There is no way a ride in a truck with that old man and his conversation would ever hold a candle to what he already had.
Besides, where was he going? He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Right now all he could hope for was that this walk went on forever.
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