Micro Fiction Monday: Truth or Dare

“I’m not doing it.”

“You picked dare.”

“Yeah, because there are only so many things you can do in a car going a hundred miles an hour.”

“And this is one of them!”

“And it’s insane. I’m not doing it.”

“Come oooooooon!”

“No. You can’t make me.”

“I’ll pay for your share of gas money for the rest of the trip.”

“…….I hate you.”

“Is that a yes?”

I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Just realize that if I die, you’re the one who’s going to be cleaning my dead carcass off the interstate.”

He grinned. “Sounds like a yes to me.”

I rolled my eyes and swung my legs over the console. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“I’ll let you know if any cops come.”

“I’m more concerned about dying, but thanks, I guess.”

I positioned myself in the back of the car and made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. He grinned again and reached up to hit a button on the dashboard, opening the sunroof above me.

“Good luck,” he yelled over the wind.

With a pounding heart and sweaty palms, I gripped the edges of the window and pulled myself through the gaping hole in the roof. The wind plugged my ears and dried out my eyes as I squinted into the sun in front of me. I stretched my legs slowly, rising above the car and the blurring landscape around me.

And suddenly, I was flying. The wind pushed my hair out of my face, and the sun shone on me like a spotlight as I flew down the highway. I stretched my arms to the sky and squealed, basking in the warmth of the setting sun, before the car horn sounded, and I dropped back down to safety.

Micro Fiction Monday: Crossing

When I was little, I thought that cars looked like people. Their headlights were eyes, and their bumpers were mouths, forever--in my eyes, at least--resembling a smile. I never put any more time and effort into the thought; whether the cars had thoughts or feelings or things to do for themselves. They were just cars, objects that surrounded us on the streets and the highway.

Now, I can see people inside those cars. I see families and couples and people sitting alone; fingers tapping the steering wheel, turning the radio dial, holding a phone up to their ear as they speak to whoever is on the other end. I see someone shoulder check before turning, as I zoom by at a hundred kilometers an hour, their face flashing in and out of my line of vision instantly. They go about their life and I go about mine, my world as unfamiliar to them as theirs is to me.

I’m not sure which thought astounds me more; the fact that this may be the only time our lives cross paths, or that they may cross again in the future, passing by without a moment’s awareness on either side.

~~

Until later,

- Justyne

Getting Lost (WFMAD Day 20)

"Life is a journey, not a destination."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

There are a few things you can count on when my friend Kristen and I get into a car together:

1. She will be the one driving

2. I will be riding shotgun

3. We will probably get lost

And that is where we found ourselves tonight, at 9:30, after dropping off a friend at home. Lost.

We drove into the city today, to go shopping and visit a few friends. After hours and hours of fun, we decided to run through a McDonald's drive-thru before heading home.

That was our first mistake. McDonald's.

In our defense, neither of us had ever really been to that part of the city before. Our friend directed us as to how to get back on the main--and more familiar--road before we parted ways, but that didn't really help us when we came out the drive-thru into a massive parking lot with virtually no sense of direction whatsoever.

Leave it to us to get lost in a parking lot. 

Instead of panicking, though, or debating routes and looking up the directions to where we wanted to go, we started laughing. And by laughing, I mean tears-in-your-eyes, exploding-bladder-inducing, breathless-and-shaking laughing.

That is by far my favourite kind of laughter. It's the kind of laughter that lingers; that still has you giggling to yourself a good half hour later (as we were).

Moments like these are definitely embarrassing, but they make for good stories to tell.

They also give me something to blog about.

Until later,

- Justyne