Cherry Fivers
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The Nightmare

It's 4:30 in the afternoon and I'm driving my car along the river's edge. I'm disoriented. I don't know where I'm headed and it's unclear where I've been. The tach says I'm traveling at ten miles per hour, but outside, the landscape is a fast-moving blur. Like a series of images juxtaposed and interfering with one another. An anxiety falls over me. A number of things don't feel right, but I can't pinpoint a single one that is overtly wrong. On the radio, a man is speaking some crazy things. In the back of my mind, I know it's supposed to be the national news, but I can't reconcile that with what I'm hearing.

The vehicle is accelerating underneath me and I'm pushed back into my seat. Outside, it's getting darker. The scenery now an inside-out mess and somehow under water. I realize, too, that I'm not steering the car; well, I am, but the wheel just spins and spins like a child's toy. I don't want to be here. "I used to drive all the time!" I think to myself, and can't comprehend why everything feels so out of control. The sound from the radio has changed to nothing but an unsettling static. The sense of motion intensifies. The road, initially reminiscent of a highway, now appears infinitely long and straight in the dimly lit cast of my yellow headlights. Just two lines converging to a point far off on the horizon. I close my eyes and feel the car beginning to rattle itself apart. This is a nightmare, and I can't wake myself up.