Vices Versa

"EXIT 4," the sign was burned in your head. You argue all the reasons for letting it pass. But that was days ago now, and turning around wasn't an option. The engine hums with the radio as the breeze sweeps through your hair. The sun never quite set, and the road ahead stretched on for years. You knew, you just had to keep moving. And just then you see it, "EXIT 4."