Voyager 3

The click of the turning key sounded, leaving him surrounded by the amber glow
of the lights outside. It had been an emotional week, traveling the country with two
friends to deliver their music to the world. Stepping down from the van, he made his way
across the near-empty service station car park, taking in the refreshing cool air that had
fervently journeyed across the British Isles to this place. The gentle hum of the
neighbouring motorway blended with the bittersweet sounds in his head that he had
experienced during past days. Although enjoying the intensity of loud and live sounds, a
wonderful stillness had now found him after hours of quiet driving.
At such a late hour, the inside of the station matched this calmness. The large,
empty space still echoed the emotions of the day's events, felt by the thousands that had
enjoyed the establishment's comforts as they passed through. He imagined all the
families, friends and lovers as they sat, enjoying their caring company and momentary
respite from journeys to innumerable destinations. Nighttime having now washed over
the land, his thoughts went out to these individuals, hoping that they had arrived safely
and now felt the ultimate rest of lying beneath a warming blanket in a comforting bed.
In these adventurers' absence, the main providers of food had been closed for a
number of hours. Left now was the occasional cafe, serving hot drinks to the few who
needed to remain awake during the darkness. Looking around, he observed that a small
number of others were present; in the newsagents, a young woman stood behind a
wooden counter in case visitors wished to purchase. He exchanged a smile with her as he
passed, as if to thank you for all of her time spent serving, effectively dedicating her life
to the weary travelers of the criss-crossing national network of roads.
In the deepest reaches of the shop, he found himself surrounded by the myriad
colours of the magazines. Having visited countless services in the past few years, it had
become a favourite pastime of his to briefly catch up on other worlds. At times, he found
himself in the luxurious buildings of famed architects, exploring their elegantly-formed
rooms and spaces, shadows and light. During other moments, he examined wonderful
garments, quietly discussing them with their creators behind fashion exhibition curtains.
Occasionally, as a nod to days gone by, he could even hear the roar of an engine as he sat
behind the wheel of a beautifully-engineered vehicle.
Bringing him back to his current setting were the faint murmurs of familiar
voices. His company was found sitting in the middle of a vast sea of chairs. Small
snacks in hand, they recharged by adding to their empty stomachs. Around a table made
for three, speeches were made about the wonders of the past few weeks--the kind new
friends met, the unknown bands heard. It was a source of constant amazement that they
were paid to create and present their art (and enlighten themselves through travel in the
process). This was the stuff of dreams that precious few were allowed the chance to
experience.
It was not long before they thanked the shelter that they had briefly rested in and

waved goodbyes to the individuals with whom they had crossed paths for this short
moment. Their van returned to its natural state--the movement of its small team to their
next destination. Guiding this dream, he sat with a smile on his face as the lights of other
nocturnal voyagers flickered by. Their presence brought him comfort, as did the two
others near to him who lay asleep, dreaming of far-off spaces and times. He flew on,
high in the sky, looking upon wintry lands. All gleamed under the light of the moon as he
soared, contently basking in the knowledge that everything was in its right place.