and so I’m sitting there, car in neutral with the handbrake on, two wheels off the side of the road and the others just verging on the last of the tarred highway before it rubbles off into gravel siding. The engine has been sitting silent long enough for the oil to cool and settle, I reach over to turn off the hazard lights because the ticking is beginning to bother me. The sun slips lightly through the half-open window and water beads up on the outside of the bottle on the passenger seat. And I’m sitting here still and silent, breaths slowly gliding in and out. I don’t know where to go. A map book sits in the footwell on the passenger side, but it wont serve any purpose. I think about the last time I opened my wallet and how much is in there, I think about what I’ve left in the boot of the car and how far I can get on the fuel I still have in the tank. I stop to wonder if anyone’s expecting me to be anywhere sometime. An old sedan pulls up behind be and a figure steps out of the passenger side. A face leans down to meet the level of my own and glances through the open window. You right mate? I nod and tell him yes, so he jogs back and gets in the sedan, waving as they roll off past me. But I’m really not so sure.