Some streets are quiet at night. The ones that sit on the outskirts of the city, untraveled roads open and free from the claustrophobia of traffic.
It’s just the car and me, gliding over the asphalt like a jet through the clouds as the temptation to press a bit more on the gas pedal is enticing.
The speedometer satisfyingly climbs, higher and higher until the mirrored street lamps on both sides of the road merge into one solid, illuminating beam of light.
Suddenly, my entire surrounding blurred into a streak. The orchards and suburban houses broke their solid form and flowed like a white river rapid past me as I transcend into darkness.
I was enveloped into oblivion, no source of light around me except the rays emitting from my headlights that through the miles of emptiness.
I must have been travelling at the speed of light as the speedometer glass began to crack, but in the darkness of the void, how do you even know if you’re moving at all?
That’s when my car began detaching. The trunk, doors, wheels, hood, whisking away like feather’s to an old vulture’s wing until it was just me.
I sat there, letting the peace and quiet fill me with bliss, almost to the level of nirvana as I let my eyes close ever so gently.
But not all the way, as three red dots shined in the distance, closing fast.
I hit the brakes and began to slow down as I was spit out of the oblivion and back onto the asphalt of the road, the orchards and houses slipping back into their natural form.
I was finally able to breath as I unclenched my hands from the plastic grip of the wheel.
I stared out into the city where the helicopters whirred noisily above and the lights masked the stars in the night sky.
The light turned green, and I made a careful turn towards the blaring horns coming from Main Street. Foot resting gently against the pedal, eager to find the right time to use a little more push.