Well, here I am, stuck in traffic, just like every afternoon when I leave work. I wish I could make this car fly.
Actually, you can.
I can? How?
You’re just not going fast enough. Just pull off to the side where there’s room. I’ll do the rest.
Really? You’re going to make this car fly?
I fought my way to the side of the interstate where there was ample room to pull over.
Start driving. Go fast.
I stepped on the gas and began to accelerate, passing the heavy traffic with ease.
The speedometer was now at 55.
I continued flooring the gas pedal and nervously watched the speedometer reach 65. Then I looked up and saw the guard rail ahead as the interstate began its curve towards the west. I slammed on the brakes but it was too late. My car crashed through the guard rail and sailed off the interstate over a steep hill.
See? You’re flying.
That’s the last time I’ll ever listen to my thoughts.