citrus-y joyride

Light reflecting off his sandy brown hair-there's joy dripping from his smile. "How lovely he is." I think to myself.
Wind pulls through my hair as I stand up through the topless roof of our Jeep.
I look down at him. He is gazing at me. This moment is ours, and he wants to hold it in his hands for years to come.
"Hey, pass me the orange pop, please."
I smile at him.
"Sure," he says as he hands it to me. Our fingers meet.
The joy I feel is remarkable-our togetherness is so eloquent.
As his hand falls down to the wheel, we look upand see a man in his car charging towards us.
The orange pop spills.

freewrite: open window

 "The open window lets the rain in." A song lyric I heard that got my mind running. You allow what you want to allow, is what I got from it. But do you really care if things are wrong enough to fix? Even then, do you really care to fix them?
 We all get comfortable with things we don't necessarily care for. We "settle" on things.
 There's this bathroom stall I go to every day at school. It has a broken toilet seat. I hate it. Yet, I never change stalls-even when I know that seat is gonna peave me off.
It's like it mocks me:"Haha, Courtney! You fool!"
Why don't I just go to another stall?
Because "the open window lets the rain in". That might not make sense to you, but I understand it. It's my opinion, and I'm comfortable with it.