A Million and One Ways to Begin a Conversation

Angrily, I slammed the car door shut and aimed my keys in the general direction of the ignition. I missed a few times before managing to start the vehicle, backing out of my driveway at speeds definitely meant for the freeway, or country roads where cops knew never to patrol. I searched haphazardly for a cd, shoving the first one I could find into the stereo. A breakup mix, how fitting. I jabbed a finger at the eject button and swapped it for a cd of what I liked to call “angry music.”

As Rob Zombie blared through my speakers, I sped down the abandoned country road, having a one-sided conversation with myself, though I could picture him and his responses clearly in my mind (after being best friends for six years, I think it was safe to assume that I knewexactly what he’d say).

“Four months, Michael. Four months, and you never called. Not once.