I sit cocooned in my car
staring intently at the distant trees
The 1812 overture wraps itself
noisily around my senses
and I drift to another world.
My foot falls heavy on the pedal
and as the crescendo rises
my eyes flicker to the dashboard.
No it can’t be
a hundred and sixty.
I never drive that fast.
I never go over one hundred.
‘Come back to earth Margaret
It must be the speedo
You’re still in the garage’
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