You Thought It Was Funny, Writing The Letter "G" On The Back Of A Pieces Of Ikea Cardboard.

On the way out, the steering column shattered, and you grinned, like an idiot.

"Huh," was all you could say.

In a narrow-stare, you grabbed a parachute and kicked in the windshield, imagining you were important.

The car flipped off the cliff. No explosion.

But she let herself go ten minutes ago, let you go. And she was glad to finally be rid of you.

Face it.