He reminds me of a spider. Or maybe I’ve just felt like a fly lately. We’ve been driving for what seems an eternity, and the only thing he’s said to me all day is California. As in, that’s our destination, though the Golden State is miles away and I’m so tired of this road trip. The passenger seat is sticky. Uncomfortably web like. (He always was a slob.) My fingers fiddle with the door handle, and here, in the middle of nowhere, I realize I am not doing this any more. Stop the car, I tell him. I want out.
Here is the song prompt: