The Quiet

The glow of the full moon cascades onto the cars and overflows into my lap.

"Disappointing," I say. "I drive at night to be enveloped in the dark. I drive at night for the serenity that comes with the quiet. The darkness is calming. At least this only happens once every 28 days."

That familiar hard red hue covers my hands that grip the steering wheel tightly. I study my fingernails until I notice them turn green. My foot moves over to the accelerator robotically before I even look up. I study my surroundings.

"Big tall buildings filled with big tall people with big tall lives. I remember that."

Lights are scattered on different levels in a type of constellation that can only be found in cities. The rush of adrenaline courses through my veins just as it did when I would look down from my big tall office.

"Up there, everything below was so small, so...temporary. The people covering the streets looked like letters on a paper Copy. Cut. Paste. Delete. Up there, anything seemed possible.

"Time to call it a night, Tommy would always say as he was walking out. You're the last one left here. I would never respond to this and eventually he would just sigh and leave. Tommy was a character. No one took him seriously because his voice had a certain Forrest Gump twang to it.

"And then there was Henry. Henry was the accountant. No one really talked to him. I mean, the guy just looked like he was covered in more viruses than the amount that could be found in the crevice of a couch. Everyday I would pass by him and he'd give me this awful smile. I didn't know what he expected of me."

My foot hovered over the brake as I reached an intersection.

"Right or left?"

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I'm sorry?"

"All this stuff about your office-- why are you telling me?"

I put the car in park and turned around to face her. "Because it is important that you know."

"Why?"

She was crying now. Great. People are so poorly put together.

"Because, Jessica. It is important that you understand there is a reason for why I do what I do. These people expected something of me they couldn't get. But I'm different, you see."

She's sobbing now.

"I'm not a bad person, Jessica. If I was a bad person, would I be explaining this to you?"

I put my seatbelt back on and shifted the car back into drive.

"The answer is no, by the way. Right or left?"

"Right."

"Great. Thank you."

There was a silence for a few minutes.

"Now, you may be wondering why me? I can only imagine I would be thinking that as well if I were handcuffed in the back of my own car."

No response. I sighed heavily.

"Come on now, Jessica. This is a conversation, you're meant to participate."

"I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright. Now, as I was saying. You're here because a few months ago you tried to sell me an apartment, do you remember that?"

"Yes."

"I told you I couldn't afford it. And you didn't even try to get the price down for me."

"Mr. Altman, I told you, it was nonnegotiable--"

"That's enough now, thank you. It's a shame you just don't understand. Oh well, it's fine. Some people are just made to be disposable. Here we are."

I pull into the parking lot next to Tommy's car.

"You see, Jessica, had we gone right or left, we would have ended up at the same destination."