The road that led us towards Kingston was a hideous one. A long stretch of highway in such good condition that no driver can resist the temptation of going over the speed limit(110 kph(60 mph), blah). Throughout the whole way I was nagged constantly by my mother to slow back down to the speed limit. The highway divided the vast landscape populated only by the few lonely farmers and their animals. The farmers were busy harvesting their crops, all of which were golden and bending under their own weight. The animals were allowed to litter themselves around the field and a few cows even mooed as we drove by(a friendly gesture, right?). It was beautiful, though the blinding sunlight prevented us from indulging ourselves in the scenery more.
We were finally knocking on the doorstep of Toronto after hours of driving through nothing but trees and farmlands. Soon after we entered the city limit, I caught sight of high-rises, the one thing that can clearly slap the word HUMANITY in your face. There they stood, in unity, sparkling under the sunlight(like a Christmas tree? now that I think of it). It gave me an uneasy feeling as we drove pass them, the same feeling that I would get when driving next to a semi. As we were leaving the city limit, a corroded iron bridge spanning the whole width of the highway hung there in midair. It sprinkled rust on whoever drove under it(would that be considered a thank you gift for visiting Toronto?).
Ironically, when we arrived, we were the first one there.
