Fast Lane

Shiny Objects

He left the room.

He left it too soon,

And with tension yet unrelieved,

Taut as a steel cable

Attaching him

To her.

He got in the car.

Slamming the door,

Stomping the clutch,

And throwing the lever to R

Before the car even caught its breath.

This was his happy place.

Built by his own two hands

It caused more problems than it solved,

But he didn’t care.

And that was the Big Problem.

He turned onto the highway.

Made his way to the left lane,

To let the white lines numb his pain,

But the tightness in his chest stayed.

The cable between him and his wife,

His whole life,

Pulling him ever backward.

He wanted to go forward.

So he kicked the clutch,

Punched the gas,

Rowed through the gears

And didn’t let up.

Eyes narrowed,

Knuckles white,

Muscles tensed,

The red needle moved steadily clockwise.


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