Worthless

I’m driving a brand new car, albeit with manual air conditioning. In the back seat sits a pretty young woman with curly hair and light dark skin. I deeply care about her. She also cares about me. We’re driving through a busy farmer market under a huge bridge. The race starts. I’m mature and decide to drive calmly. There are more important things in life than winning a race. People are proud of me. We’re nearing the finish. Surprisingly I’m in the lead. I could actually win this thing. Fuck it. I’m going for the win. I accelerate. The young woman falls out of the car. Who cares. I’m going for the win. People are shocked. A turning point in my behavior. 

The husband of the young woman and their children await me at the finish line. He’s a very tall and broad Afro-American man. He radiates peace. As we wait for the woman to arrive I help the family empty their grocery cart. To break the ice I tell the man:

“And they say I’m big”

Finally the young woman is there. I ask the man: 

“It’s always the same right?” 

To which he replies in a deep and rich voice: 

“Not really”

You can tell the woman feels bad for me. As she looks into my eyes, she says: 

“Come now, it’s time for you to go back to the ward. It’s almost past your hours” 

I feel worthless.