You shuffled through your phone’s history. You shuffled while she drove. She talked while she drove. ‘lesbian regina’ .. what? ..<history><clear>.

She talked and you listened while you shuffled. The video, of that song. Can’t get the CD of with that song any more.. only the video.. only online..<buffering..>.

Then we won’t go, you say. What do you mean? If you don’t like them so much then we won’t go. I didn’t say I didn’t like them, I just don’t think we really enjoy each other’s company and it’s a bit of a farce the way we keep catching up. Well do you mind if I still go? No, no, go.

And then thinking what a fool, you don’t like them either.

You wonder when you get older if you’ll need a bigger screen and will they have bluetooth hearing aids. The sound is OK, but seems to get out of sync with the video.

It’s dawn somewhere. It’s a comforting thought. You close your eyes and listen to the lyrics.

Babe.

Babe. You feel the gravel scrunching under the passenger side tires. She wakes with a shriek and you try to grab the steering wheel as the car slides off the road, hits the embankment and launches through barbed wire towards the bracken framed dam below.