I don’t know about you, but my mind can drift into fertile territory on long nighttime drives. Anything is game; from the reasonably assumed, what if I stop working the day job and concentrate on my business? Or, if the time is late, and I’m on my way back from the Carolinas in one fast maneuver, what would a Zombie apocalypse actually look like?
Typically it’s somewhere in the middle, imagining halcyon days on the coast if I had stayed in Maine or my stylish presentation if I had practiced harder and become a successful folksinger. But, as one of my sensei says, ” shoulda been, could have been, and wanna been…get back to practice.” And with that, I snap back to whatever is playing on the radio at two AM in the morning.
The outside temperature has a role in this, I don’t think much about coastal Maine in wintertime drive with snow on the road, and I’m more likely to think about road trips with friends on lush springtime nights.
Oh, there we go again. Springtime, getting off from a ride at some all-night juke joint and grabbing a burger and fries at the bar. Then, going into the club for more entertainment, maybe ask some lady to dance. Hey, what a great band tonight, right?
Then I look up at the clock on the wall and notice that it reads 3 AM; the bartender looks at me weird as his jaw unhinges, and he lunges at me. My dance partner is no longer nibbling delightfully at my ear. Instead, she’s reared back for a chomp. All around me, Zombies are tearing up innocent dancers.
Suddenly, a blaring noise and a bright light snap me back to awareness. I swerve back into my lane. Once I calm down and take some deep breaths, I start looking for a safe place to pull over and nap. But no, I’m still in the grip of that dream.
What if They’re out there lying in wait for me?