an empty space where a moment before there was a vehicle

an empty space where a moment before there was a vehicle

I’m fighting with my sister—we’re staying in a hotel, and she’s scolding me, telling me to buck up, and I’m furious and indignant, clinging somehow to my right to feel bad—I stomp off and shut myself in my hotel room and adjust the lights to a more soothing setting, prepare to hunker down. later I’m back out in the world, and I walk to my car and glance away for a moment and it’s gone—only an empty space where it had been—and I’m sure one of my friends in the wedding party must have come to get it for me, mistakenly looking after me, and I’m frustrated and dismayed—I’d been intending to flee the state altogether, hit the road, and now there’s just an empty space where a moment before there’d been a vehicle—I stand there not knowing what to do, and thisbe walks up, furious and distressed and demands, where were you?, I’ve been worried sick—I feel bad but also like I don’t deserve her indignation—why do I need to answer to her? but bad for having upset her—and her strong reaction alone seems to determine that I’ve done something wrong. I’m trying to get free but I can’t shake the fact of being connected to and at least somewhat accountable to other people.

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