Backlit
Passenger
Megan Lane MacDonald
I fell asleep on the way over,
snuggled in the back of the car,
lulled by the hot breath of the fan
and the driver’s soft humming.
I fell asleep on the way over,
soothed by the cacophonous lullaby
of thumping speakers, flashing sirens,
and the crunching of ice under tires.
I fell asleep on the way over.
Cocooned in my plush winter coat,
protected from the world outside my window,
I fell asleep.