Missed

Dire Straits turned up loud, the white line rushing at her through the fog. The passenger nods, his chin on his chest. Occasionally she sneaks a nervous glance at him, licking her lips, but mostly she peers out at the motorway signs. Coventry, Nottingham, Sheffield. Mesmerized, she is standing still in time, staring at the stargate sequence as the bright lights bleed and stretch and race past her. The first flash of panic, when she might have acted, lies far behind her down the rushing road. He was still alive when they left London. She drives on through the night.