"Lost" by Dave Morrison

The aquarium glow of the

dashboard lights your

face, alert eyes and

furrowed brow, the radio mumbling

to itself and the tires spitting out

road behind you.

That last exit shot by, yanking

you out of your reverie, too late to

commit or even read the sign, but

that was probably the one you

needed. Now just black and

purple night, two cones of light,

a tightening in your throat as

you speed further and further

away from where you need to be.

There will be another exit soon,

there has to be, and roads are like

rivers, are they not? They all

connect. What was that joke about

the Titanic; we’ve lost all bearings

but we are making excellent time?

There’s your answer, it’s simple

math - make up the extra miles with

extra speed. Let this over-engineered

rocket do what it is never allowed to do

on the streets of your town, let it live

up to its potential. You press gently

but insistently and it takes a deep breath

and relaxes into its power leaving all

the dark details behind, pushing, pulling,

gliding like a bullet through the thick

dark night.

Here’s an exit, here’s a way back, if not

to the familiar, at least to something

recognizable.

Epiphany - one doesn’t really need

brakes.

You’re late and it doesn’t matter

any more - you vow not to look at

the clock again. A right onto a

straight dark road, a flashing yellow

light intended for timid daytime

drivers, not you - a stop sign steps

out of the darkness and you stand

on the brakes, heart pounding.

Fuck it.

Wind the wheel left, window down,

radio up, road twisting now, no

possible way to avoid any bad

surprises so open it up - the car can

find its way. Thinking only slows

you down; your teeth, your mouth

dry because you are grinning hugely.

Why? Because you are so fucking

lost and driving too fast, because you

are finally in this moment, not caring about

the ones before or to come, only

wanting to see what happens and find out

as soon as possible.