From my bed I always know when cars are passing by outside because streaks of dull white light hit the curtains. I used to and sometimes still pretend that they are lights from magic carpets and flying saucers twirling toward my window, where interesting saucer/carpet riding people beckon to me with cheese plates and finger sandwiches. Always in my vision of this occurrence, the dull white light that I had previously assumed to be a car would grow brighter and brighter until I hear a thud and run to my window to investigate. From there I would presumably notice the flying saucer and/or magic carpet parked on my roof and embark on the most insanely awesome and life changing journey ever. This, sadly, has yet to happen.

The dull white lights just keep flickering: there one second, gone the next. They belong to people in their cars at 1:20 am: soon to be grounded teenagers out on dates long past curfew, women going into labor, people who have lost their dogs, and snow plows. Those are the only reasons I can think of to be on the road tonight. Unless they were all sitting in bed just like I am, tired of waiting for their flying saucer-magic carpets to come rescue them from uniquely mundane lives, and went out driving to find them. In a sense, we are all just mozying through life, waiting for our magic carpet flying saucers and cheese plates to save us. I will never give up this tireless, childish hope and I will never give up on life and I will never give up on run on sentences…