March 15th, 2024 My fingers are locked tight around the steering wheel. I imagine all the ways this could go wrong at any moment, the reheated leftovers of PTSD, driving a formally stolen car that tried to kill me last year. I wonder if I can get fast enough that my car could lift up from the front and flip me over backwards; every gust of wind has me convinced that I am on black ice in the middle of the warmest spring we have ever experienced.
Let Go
Let Go
Let Go
March 15th, 2024 My fingers are locked tight around the steering wheel. I imagine all the ways this could go wrong at any moment, the reheated leftovers of PTSD, driving a formally stolen car that tried to kill me last year. I wonder if I can get fast enough that my car could lift up from the front and flip me over backwards; every gust of wind has me convinced that I am on black ice in the middle of the warmest spring we have ever experienced.