Down the highway, away from Babylon, drove a quaint sedan. Its occupants, a father, mother, and son, were beyond exhausted. Not a word was uttered between them. Memories of the fantastical sights they’d seen that day bounded about their minds. The father drove monotonously. The highway, flat and passing foreseeable sight, educed a tunnel vision that required snapping back into reality every so often. The excitement was over. And the work that came with the journey home was dumped upon him like a stack of paperwork.
Beside him, his wife averted her eyes from her tablet and rolled her head to the side. Out the window were vast fields of grass. An ocean of green that felt liminal without cattle or crops upon it. The wooden fence separating it from the highway was earmarked every few yards with the same bright sign. She put her fingers over her mouth in amazement at the text they bore. Taking note of her surprise, her husband cautiously glanced over. Every sign read:
MORE BABYLON WONDERS
Through shared silence, the two wondered when it might all end.
The young boy in the back set down the toy dinosaur he’d been playing with and shifted around, knees on seat. Through the rearview window, the Brachiosaurus statue looked as though it were only feet away from the car; despite them being far enough as to not be caught in its shadow. Watching it as they drove, the statue hardly seemed to fade from view with each passing mile. Forever fixated in all its glory. He wondered when they might visit once again.
The car was no more than a mere miniature as it delved further down the endless road. Equally uniform and boundless, just as the row of signs that followed it. Limitless and ever-reaching.