The sun is low, obscuring figures on the pedestrian crossing.
You look up from your phone as they come into focus, slam the brakes hard.
Bam.
You open your eyes at the wheel. A sensation of waking up.
Is this a dream?
Your phone bleeps, answering your question. You approach the same crossing. Everything replays. You slam the brakes hard.
Bam.
Towards the crossing once more, into the low sun.
To wake is to escape this loop, but in the safety of the dream car no one gets hurt, and everyone gets to keep their limbs.
I liked it. Reminded of the same drunk in New Orleans bumping into my car three times on the way to work. Something always clouds people’s minds.
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