fadedbronzeandwitheredgarlands:

Hermes is the smell of gasoline and diesel.

The unique scent of highway asphalt and the coffee you clutch between your shaking, over-caffeinated fingers.

Hermes is the slightly cold bag of Mcdonalds sitting between the driver and passenger on a long drive.

Hermes is the streetlights dancing across the painted lines you’re oh-so-tempted to swerve across.

Hermes is always moving towards the horizon, and never looking back.

Hermes is road stop diners, where he meets Hestia for a bit of home.

Hermes is all the windows down on a cloudless day.

Hermes is the electrifying feeling of going full throttle on an abandoned back road, sending dirt and gravel flying.

Hermes is late nights and going so fast you worry you’ll fly off the road on a sharp turn.

Hermes is adrenaline-inducing, spine-tingling freedom, and the will to do what you choose.