Maybes

Maybes

In the passenger side of a car I’m used to; safe in the familiar fabric, the radio presets, the repetitive memory. We chase the lights, my mindless thoughts painted in white lines and road signs.

Stopped at a red.

Beside us, a minivan - driver blending into raindrops on the window. Company vehicle; words printed on the side - a name I recognise, peeled and puckered.

It doesn't belong to you - a name can't be owned.

Though your face lives in the curves of the letters. The font is delicate, deliberate - the way I would say it. For a moment, I give into the notion that the universe has time to play games, and I almost

                                           Almost

Find that name again.

But I wait too long.

A new light, renewal scattered on the raindrops, and I feel the reconnection in the rev of the engine.

And I feel the moment pull away down the motorway.