That flyover over the horizon is the road that I take to go to work every morning. The road is foggy, with trees left and right and further ahead, cars are rare, trucks are once in a blue moon, only kampung houses separated by field of greens, miles from one to another. Things are simple over here, cow dungs on the road and goats crossing like no one's business and people leisurely cruising on their bikes. They live by the rules, and they stand over the boundary when they know they shouldn't walk it over.
I smile when I realize that it is not the songs over the radio that make me happy - it is the mist like a huge cloud that fade the road away. As if it holds mystery at one point, and opens up for the answers a few feet later.
Life is not that simple. I can't tell what is in front of me. It is like the morning fog that swallow the road away, but once you drive forward, your direction becomes clearer.
The only thing that matters is to keep moving. Turn back when you have to. But you will lose the chance to discover what miles further might offer you.