The car’s not on but your seatbelt is. Going zero miles per hour, you are guaranteed to hit nothing. You are guaranteed to see nothing. You are guaranteed to go nowhere. You’re in a safe place— at home, without a single smudge on the exterior, without a single story to tell, without a single soul waiting to hear what’s next. Don’t worry. I’ll wave as I drive by, going 80 down some coastal highway, filling up pages with every breath I take.