You are sitting there, in your car or on a train, and suddenly you are rolling backwards. But it's not you moving, it's the car next to you going forward, giving you the feeling of sliding away, smoothly, with no effort at all.

He has a fresh sunburn and he is drunk, like he has spent the day, beer after beer, outside in ferocious sun. He lurches towards me on the train platform, his eyes glassy, unblinking and a heart-piercing blue.

The music in my ears sings "I dream a highway back to you..." I close my eyes, lift my chin, pretend the light coming through my eyelids is the light of dawn and not the blare of subway overheads.