What it would be like

It was quiet in the car. someone had turned the sound off us; we were watching ourselves on old silent video, years from now. The wheels, out-of-focus street signs (You have just left [somewhere]! Come back and visit us again soon!), kids buried in the backs of station wagons, waving to other cars. squinty eyes.

Our life in boxes.

Across three states, I decided I wouldn’t write anyone.