Apr 19 2005


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The low white noise of the rain on the car roof as they drove was suddenly broken by Greg’s voice. “Do you ever wonder where you’re going?” he asked.

“What?” said Brigid.

“Do you ever wonder where you’re going? Seriously?”

She blinked. “What’s this? A serious moment from the Everlasting Airhead? A deep thought actually rattling around in that cavernous cranium of yours?”

“You can dispense with the Batman Narrator impression,” Greg snipped. “I asked you a question. Do you ever think that maybe you’ve taken a wrong turn in your life?”

“Well,” Brigid said, looking wistfully out the window at the passing trees, “now that you mention it, I guess I do, sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?”

“When do you think the wrong turn was?”

“For me? Oh, I don’t know. I sometimes think they’ve all been wrong turns. Maybe I studied the wrong subject in college. Maybe I didn’t pursue the right kinds of relationships. Maybe I turned my back on the wrong people at key points. I don’t know.”


“A few of them, wow, I really wish I could take back. I … well … I really hurt somebody once with something I shouldn’t have said, and we’ve never been the same since.”

Greg nodded silently, and they rode on for a long moment.

Finally, Brigid asked, “What about you? When did you make a wrong turn?”

His eyebrows raised as he considered the question. Then he said, “About ten miles ago now, I think. I haven’t recognized anything since that sign for the turnpike. I guess we’ll have to turn around.”

She blinked at him, as he peered out at the road ahead with utmost sincerity. Then she crossed her arms and scowled at the window.

“I hate you,” she said.

-The Gneech

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