They Had Nothing To Say To Each Other

They had nothing to say to each other. Their mouths were parched, and their eyes bloodshot. He stared ahead, over the steeling wheel, at the night sky dotted with a thousand stars. She sat with her head bent down, her hair covering her face like a scarlet curtain. She stared at her hands entwined in her lap. The silence fell over them like lead, weighing down on the both of them. It was finally broken by a welcome pattering of rain. God, it had been dry out. The amber waves of grain they passed had looked more like a barren brown.
“America the beautiful.” she had snorted. That had been before the silence. More than once she had caught him sneaking curious glances at her. She would never have thought that they would be this way. They had been so close growing up. Him so handsome in a roguish way, now so cold and forbidding. She never quite cute, but showing promises of a great beauty that would come with age. She had never gone back on a promise, but the result was tinctured by an incredible sadness. His eyes once so thoughtful, now like glittering patches of ice. Her eyes once so vibrant now so deep.
The radio was playing a song from the country, on a fiddle and an old wood bow. Everything was just like it had been, except for the silence. She remembered a song that they had sung together when they were young. They had never fully understood what it meant then, but now she did with a horrible clarity. She turned to him, lifting her head precariously. Her throat was dry, and she coughed a few times before she could break the silence.
“Until we run out of road.” she said softly, her voice raspy from the lack of talking. He nodded his head in understanding.
They had nothing to say to each other.