The music blares loud enough to shake the car, loud, but not clear, because the cable is kinda screwy so that every time he hits a pothole the music melts into teeth rattling vibrations and the breeze gushes in through the temporal openings threatening to blow the card parking pass out the window into the vast pleasant outside world the sun burns down from space turning the world warm with childhood nostalgia and chlorophyll green lampshades hanging from chocolate brown trees paint the world with an aura of emeralds and the spedometer plays Apollo rising higher on its arc twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, ect. the rush of speed becomes deafening and the hot asphalt road rises, dips, meanders, and he controls its will with the easy gliding of the leather steering wheel and an easy smile driving with the windows down