Looks And Waits

[Ron. Lavalette]

A look, he told her once, is the distance you can see down the highway before it disappears over a ridge or around a bend, provided that the bend or ridge is somewhere near the horizon. 

But if the road, obscured by topography, disappears just a mile or half-mile away, he’d said, the time it takes to traverse these shorter distances is called a “wait.” 

A wait is what you have to endure until you get to another look. 

Driving west in the approaching dawn, she’d lost count at eight looks and myriad waits; assumed she’d probably miscalculated both the distance and her own endurance. 

She kept her eye on the rearview mirror, curious if the things she’d left behind looked any different. 

She still had a long way to go; could hardly stand the wait.

 

[Bill Floyd]

The cadence and double-entendre do the heavy lifting, but it's the ideas behind them that sink the weight.

[Angela]

The third sentence was a jewel.  I liked this from-and-to piece, Ron.

[Sandra Davies]

"assumed she’d probably miscalculated both the distance and her own endurance" - aye, there's the nub ...