Getaway Car

A conscious decision not to take a step forward. Beware, I tell myself. Caution is the only thing I have. Don’t look at him, I tell myself. Everyone gets here, right? Fear is just fear, right?

Go, he says.

He doesn’t know anything, I say under my breath. I want to say it louder, but I’m too scared—another thing I fear. Just a moment ago, I would have, I think, but something’s broken between now and then. Kicked off inside my head. Let me have another second, I tell myself.

Maybe if I just take this moment to breathe.

No, he says.

On Sunday, he told me he was done praying for the rest of his life. People can change just like that, I suppose. Quite the feat if you ask me. Risks are only risks if there’s a reward on the other side, right?

Stop thinking so much, he says, because he knows.

There’s a dent in the car door. Under the hood, it’s full of rust. Why did I ever think escape would be glamorous?

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