"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.