The only way to live
Nothing has moved for five minutes. You shift your hands on the wheel. It’s hard to remember where you usually put them when you’re not moving.
The radio is more interesting than you remember it being. Not the sounds coming out of it, but the buttons. You jab a couple and idly wonder where you put the manual as the air is filled with the crackle of static.
A couple more button presses and the sounds stop.
You wonder how many cars you could fit on a mile of road, and start to try to figure out the answer in your head before realising that some things are better left unknown.
You glance over at the car to your left, look back at the road ahead, then register what you just saw. You look back at the car again. That can’t be right.