He lay facing the window, head buried deep into the passenger seat. Acted like he was sleeping but, in truth: restless.
“You can use the blanket if you want,” she said. “There’s one on the back seat.”
He yawned, twisting around to face forward.
“You okay?” She dialed up the heating; its whisper became a deep purr. “You don’t have to talk, if you need the sleep.”
“I’m awake now,” he said, giving his head a shake. Leaned forward then, arms crossed on the dash, chin on top. He peered out at the dulled trees slipping past, their tops lost in the-
“Hey, what’s the difference between fog and mist?” His head lolled, left ear to the black plastic.
“Sorry?” Her eyes darted over to his. They took her in, watching her slightest movements.
“Take your head off the dashboard.”
“But what’s the difference?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm,” he pondered. Fog or mist, they now drifted through dusk made manifest, the firs nothing more than dark smudges dissolving into the distance, the sky.