Not Quite

Thirty-five miles per hour. Headlights reflected off wet asphalt so I accelerated. Forty-five miles per hour and more headlights reflected off melted snow on the windshield. So I accelerated again. Sixty-five miles per hour, still no one in front of me so I accelerate. "Lights in the Sky" and everything slows down. The road blurs but the car continues. One speaker blown but the music resonates in both ears. Through my body. I notice things along the side of the road I've never noticed before. Seeing everything but the road. Headlights fade out and life reflects on me. I probably still accelerate. Nothing else matters but this. A life beyond the road, beside the road, besides the road. But soon, somehow, I'm in a driveway. I blink some, then quiet the engine and step out of the car.

Another color sponsored by randominity. Is that a word? My word?