Suddenly the music stopped.

Firm, white pillows of regret smacked us in the face

With a force so vengeful it could have been alive.

A powdery, nauseating smoke overthrew the dashboard.

Our seatbelts remained in their resting position,

And the glass edges in our skin were skillfully sharpened.

As the vehicle circled the road as our Earth does the Sun,

It felt as if our Earth had stopped revolving altogether.

The shattered windows represented our punishment,

Though we would have preferred a ticket.

As the sirens wail and they dress us in the plastic,

We lament the invention of cell phones.