The drops of rain rolled over the windshield.
She opened the window next to her and breathed in
the fresh scent of rain and earth.
As she rode beneath the canopy of dead trees,
she wished she was alone.
She did not want her mother sitting next to her,
the car was too enclosed-
no space for words between them.
She never wanted to go home.
She gazed through the open car windows
at quirky, beautiful houses-
the kind of houses only pictured in storybooks-
where the family gathers next to the fireplace to
tell already told stories
to eat peanuts and drink hot chocolate
on an icy winter night.
The girl imagined the sort of people
who would live in these
She would like these people to be her neighbors.
The girl spotted a Victorian mansion
and thought a sad princess might be
The roof was a triangle
and dirt brown.
The bricks were granite and pale.
The green light flashed,
and as her mother rode on,
she could swear she had seen
the face of a lost princess
peering out from a window.