Detour

Up in the night again, heart aching with things that never were.

Remnants of a dream. I peer into the deep-set dashboard clock and see the LED 7:25. I’m not sure if it’s AM or PM; it’s dark. “You know I love you, but can you tell me where we’re going?” You slide closer to me on the three-seated row and give the car a playful swerve.