The sky is grey
Thick with exhaust and spent petroleum
Rain will be harsh if it comes
The sun bites through the haze
Making small entryways for the fumes to enter me
I swat at it like an irritating fly
Of course it makes no difference
I roll my window down
Exhaling deeply, I read the bumper sticker for the twenty second time
"if it's on time, it's a 'Fluke'"
It wasn't funny the first time, but it has strangely become hilarious,
in that "36-hours-awake-and-still-not-finished-working" kind of way
My engine coughs loudly for attention
I push the shift stick to neutral, and ease my foot onto the pedal
Just to let it know I haven't forgotten about her
Sirens blare behind me, but they move on past me
I exhale deeply
No comments:
Post a Comment