The truck was rolling backwards with my sister and me inside, but no one was at the wheel. We were just about to leave, but mom had forgotten something. She hopped out of the old Dodge Ram to dash back to the house, but when she slammed the door closed, the gray beast was shaken out of park and lurched into reverse.
Gravel crunched below the tires as we began to roll. My sister was trying to get into the driver’s seat, she was climbing over the center console from the passenger seat and I was doing the same from the back. We were both screaming.
We rolled out of the driveway and the gravel sounds silenced as we backed across the road. Mom was running towards us then, we rolled into the neighbor’s yard, and we were both still struggling on the massive center console when we finally smacked into the tree that stopped us.
Mom was already at the door and we were both fine, but for years after that I would have dreams about being in a self-driving car. They were always a little unsettling, I never knew where I was going and I had no control, but I wouldn’t exactly call them nightmares. Now, in retrospect, I might call them premonitions. Wink wink.
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Artsy Reflections started out as the Photo and 100 Words project back in 2014 – find out why I started it and how it evolved.