Legal Theft Flash Fiction: Highway (265 words)

Her problems faded out of sight in the rear-view mirror and she relished the roar of the highway wind. In a few minutes, maybe, she would turn on the radio, twist the volume up until it rumbled in her floorboards, her seat, her lungs. Until it filled the car and pushed the horizon farther away. She usually did, just as part of ignition, listening to the engine turn over once before she drowned it out with drums and guitar.

A friend had told her once that there was a science to why music sounded better when it was cranked up loud. She didn’t need the excuse, but she used it just the same, turning the dial higher. Turning decent songs good, and good songs great. Forcing everything back.

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Gwendoogle Part CVIII – Driving Sunday

GwendoogleAnswers served with a large amount of sarcasm

Kate Kearney searched: Will you please explain mornings?
Well, folks, the earth is spinning. Round and round and round, she goes, and where she stops, nobody knows. Physicists, astronomers, apocalypitics, and gamblers have been trying to figure it out for ages, while the rest of us have just been trying to figure out why we don’t get dizzy.

The leading theory is that we’ve been spinning since the day we were born, and our bodies have accustomed themselves to the spacial shift that we undergo at every hour. There’s another theory that gravity on earth is strong enough to keep the fluid of our inner ear stable except for the random forces that we exert on it while doing things like cartwheels, but that would imply that childhood acrobatics are more powerful than the forces of the universe, and that makes some people uncomfortable.

But at least we all agree that the earth is spinning.

It spins on (basically) a twenty-four hour cycle, the sides of the earth taking turns looking directly at the sun (which I’m told is bad for you). This gives us a dark period that’s good for sleeping but is rarely used for sleeping, and a light period that’s good for everything else and sleeping. Morning is the beginning of the light period, when we’re all trying to decide how much more time we want to stay in bed, and simultaneously wondering if astronauts get dizzy.

Or deep-sea divers.

Or those people who drill into the earth’s core. Whatever they’re called.

Or if we’d get dizzy if we got all the way to the earth’s molten center. You know, before we got incinerated.

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