Flanked by two heaps of painted sheet metal spewing fumes of spent fossil fuels, I idled a bit stronger, a bit louder, but was still lost in their rumble. I waited an eternity for green and for air not choked by the ghosts of ancient organic matter but was granted only a temporary tunnel. If only I splurged on that sunroof, I could be looking at the sky.
No longer a stingy red, the signal cued my right foot to cue the momentum and my seat to cradle me. I glide homeward bound, with summer air and cicada banter ushering in with volume that familiar wet autumn decay.
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