summit talks

-- Where we going?

-- I don't know, like I honestly don't know.

-- You don't know?

-- Why should I?

-- Where do you want to go?

-- Good question. That's another good question.

-- Why?

-- Why what?

-- Why are you on the road?

-- You too.

-- You get the twenty?

-- Yup.

-- I can drive.

-- I know. 

This they said in near-unison, he following her by half a beat. 

They were reaching the peak of a modest mountain, considered a steep hill in some quarters. A valley with hamlets dotted the horizon before them, tired lights from the night before twinkling, morning mists falling and lifting lazily. Beyond that, more hills and valleys -- unless it was a sleep-deprivation illusion. Which was possible after nearly 21 straight hours of driving, interrupted only by pee stops beside the car, shielded by a door. 

They burst out, near-unison, in stupid laughter.

-- Drive, she said.