Then I drove home in the middle of the night.

Alone on tar rivers oozing under heavy air.
A 35mph speed limit.

I was Heinz ketchup before squeeze bottles.
I was a go kart with a governed throttle.

Time itself signaled and passed; in a double yellow section, of course.
What county cop would stop time for such a minor infraction?
What county cop was awake?

At least time signaled.
That was polite, or ordinary for a thing that’s never early and never late.
Right on time to be precise.

But passed me in the night.

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