control

Some memories have come and passed.

Some people.

Some friends.

Mostly blurs outside the window,

Meshing with the trees.

The driver is going too fast.

My things are slipping out of the trunk.

Please stop, just for a little.

I wanted to sightsee.

The signs stopped appearing some time ago too.

I don't remember when.

What if the road is blocked?

What if there's a cliff?

I guess I wouldn't know.

Would I care?

The driver is going far too fast.

Surely the car can slow down.

Surely it will slow down.

It needs to slow down.

I need to slow down.

I need to slow down.

The steering wheel is smooth. 

Cold.

Solid.

Trees appear. 

Then grass. 

People. 

Friends. 

Memories.

The seat belt holds me securely in my seat.

The steering wheel is smooth.

I can see the trees.