There was a dusty, navy-blue, mid-Eighties Buick sedan heading toward I-65.
The occupants showed no frustration at the three-engine train rumbling through the intersection of rails and road.
The girl's dirty-blonde pony-tail swayed expressively as she nodded and tipped her head in unimportant conversation. Occasionally, she bowed to the slightly spotted, half-eaten banana in her right hand to take another bite. The sad-eyed chihuahua in her lap alternately observed his mistress and the passing train through the open window.
The driver turned his dread-locked head to his companion to kiss her briefly on the nose and smile at her conversation. His dark left arm hung casually out of the window and a gentle summer breeze cooled the sweat. His long fingers caressed her chin gently, the smooth, long nailbeds shining dully in the shadowed car. They laughed suddenly together, and the chihuahua nervously turned toward them with blinking curiosity.
Eventually, the roar of the train passed and faded. As the breeze ruffled the torn vinyl on the car's roof, the brake lights abruptly extinguished, and the car resumed it's unhurried journey.
