Gospel music is pouring.

Did you hear that? That’s Fate giggling.

She’s chewing gum and driving far too fast in a 1963 Impala, windows down and head bobbing along to a crazy backwater AM station (on which a Primitive Baptist preacher was spitting and screaming only five minutes ago).

With her free hand, she’s scooping up the rushing air and dropping it neatly to the ground before grabbing another handful. Five syllable words like enthusiasm circle in her head and she’s pushing the gas pedal harder, nailing it to the floorboard, the arch of her foot hard and inviting.

So inviting, in fact, that I’d willingly offer up my neck to it.

Oh…you too?