"Hey. You stare too hard. By the looks of it, you might as well have a vendetta against the past ten miles of asphalt."

Lloyd didn't lift his gaze off the road ahead, although the cleverness of my remark briefly lifted my spirit. My eyes wander around aimlessly, desperate to find anything more interesting than the empty stretch of highway that lies ahead.

I only see shriveled-up bushes lining the side of the road...

...and illegible speed limit signs, obstructed by streaks of red spray paint.

More shriveled-up bushes...

...and a heavy glare lingering on me in the rearview mirror.

"Keep your eyes on the road, would ya?" I snap.

Lloyd's eyes return to the road.

I let out a sigh.

Silence.

I turn the knob on the radio, not at all expecting it to work or anything. This truck is ancient... Unpleasant noise erupts from the speakers--some old '70s junk with an already weak radio signal out here. I gather the speakers probably haven't been used in decades, and for good measure.

I turn the radio off.

Silence.

Lloyd disengages his white-knuckled grip from the wheel and reaches over to turn the music back on.

"You tolerate this shit?" I ask, glancing at him for a response. He raises the volume, keeping his eyes on the road. "Geez! Fine." I turn back to face the window.

After tapping my sneakers out of boredom for a few long moments, I recline my seat and reach into the back seat for some snacks. I rip the wrapper off a cherry lollipop and jam it in my mouth before turning back to Lloyd. "Want one?" I ask.

No answer.

I shrug.

"Concrete."

"Huh?" I yank the lollipop from my mouth.

"It's concrete."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

I notice that I'm waving my lollipop in the air and decide to stick it back in my mouth.

"The road's too light to be asphalt," Lloyd mutters without shifting his gaze from the road. "It must be concrete."