Things can only get better

It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. One minute it was fine, you were cruising - the only one on the highway, windows down, singing out loud to Salt n Pepa's Whatta Man, 100% Hits of 94 doing its best to blow your subwoofers. You don't know exactly where you are, but you're confident you're heading in the right direction. If you had to guess you'd say you were somewhere near the middle of nowhere, but it doesn't really matter: the stark scenery that sped past during the day has faded into dusk and you're enjoying the peculiar solitary confinement that driving long distances brings.


Except, without you realising, something has gone horribly wrong. You press the accelerator, but instead of the responsive fuel injection you were expecting, it doesn't engage. Your chest tightens and your eyes travel nervously over the dashboard and rest on the fuel gauge. Empty. Taunting you, the warning light flashes. Fuck. How did you miss this? How many times has this happened? Like its stating the obvious, your car shudders and lurches with the tell-tale signs that you're running on fumes. You scan the sides of the road for clues to see how far you are from civilisation, willing anything, even one of those monolithic BP Service Centres to loom beacon-like on the horizon, but nothing but white sign posts and reflectors stretch into the distance. You curse your blind optimism and again you think, how many times does this have to happen before I'll learn?

Although you realise its inevitable, you're still shocked when the car shivers to a halt and no amount of key turning and pedal pumping will restart it. Your hands shaking, you find your phone. No reception, no internet coverage. Natch, you think wryly and as you slowly lower your head to the steering wheel, the sinking feeling that started in your throat settles down to your stomach and you wish you hadn't watched 'Wolf Creek' two days earlier. Your car battery is still charged so you keep the music on - suddenly the solitary confinement you were enjoying feels imprisoning - and you desperately cling to the voice coming through the speakers; anything to stop you feeling alone.

As the reality of the situation sets in you become completely overwhelmed, rendered powerless by circumstance. You're stranded in the dark on some rural highway, no phone, no petrol, no idea where you are and worst of all - noone to help. You cry. Irrationally, you over-analyse the last few hours, retracing your steps and futilely dissecting what you could have done differently, how you could have avoided this. The worst part is you know that given the choice you wouldn't have done anything differently. The second worst part is that, regardless, it doesn't change what's happening now.

You turn up the music and let it wash over you, hoping in vain that somehow the noise will drown out the emptiness. Somehow the lyrics reach you through the numbness and despite the tears you manage a faint smile, thankful that even in your darkest hours you have a sense of humour the song is D:ream,Things can only get better.

Jill Diane