untitledRed light in the windshield, shining off the dashboard.85 miles an hour, 10 mile an hour crosswinds. Tiny glittering shards of ice, snow!- blowing.A woman's voice from the little black box on the console, "I am no prophet-and here's no great matter".Red, red, burning bright.Eyes scanning, jumping around.Left, right, behind. "And here's no great matter".Foot down, eyes up.Red light shining off the dashboard, blinding the eyes.85 miles an hour, 30 mile an hour cross-traffic. A northern star, twinkling in delight.A man's voice in the back of the head, "The eyes are not here/There are no eyes here".Red, red, burning bright.Foot down
untitledHeaving. His chest. Heaving.Slowly coming to. "My hair is still black. Dammit."Vision back in flashes of white and gray. A note on the steering wheel. "One. One TWO. One TWO."Vestiges of a heart-beat. A dull throbbing from his heart. "One TWO."Jet hair, matted down with sweat.His chest, rolling waves in a tempest. "Breathe. One. One. One TWO."One sleeve rolled up. His chest, bare."I did this to myself. I did this to myself. I did this to myself." Vomiting on the ruched leather. Flushed yet pale. Lazarus from the dead."How I've grown older."Slowly crawling back to the driver's seat. A note on the steering wheel."How I've grown old
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