I blink once, twice, then six or seven times back-to-back and re-grip the steering wheel. Don’t even know that I noticed when I zoned out. Highway Hypnosis, I think they call it.
Fiction
I always knew drowning was the way I’d go. When I was a kid, I would park myself in front of the refrigerator in the dead of night, a plastic cup in my hand. Over and over I would refill the cup with water and empty it down my garbage chute esophagus.
