My Brother and I

I told my younger brother that I would drive him to church. It was two days after Thanksgiving.

“Don’t take 71,” Dad said. “Take 3. There’ll be less traffic.”

I nodded.

The road was dark except for car lights and streetlights. I drove the car through pools of light and then back into darkness.

We were quiet, lost in our own thoughts. Ahead, a traffic light shifted to orange. I pushed down on the brake. Slow… stop.

I murmured something to my brother. A few soft words.

My car sat in the middle of the road, alone. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Just a long ribbon of cement. No cars in sight.

The traffic light changed to green. I slid my foot to the right and pressed down on the gas pedal. We cruised up to an intersection. Finally I saw activity and life. I stopped behind a SUV. Sleek cars drove through the intersection, dark and faceless. Like shells. In front of me, the car’s turn signal continued its soulless rhythm.

Impulsively, I picked the book off the car floor and placed it in my lap. The traffic light blinked green, and I released the brake.

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  1. Anonymous

     /  January 9, 2010



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