I was stuck at a roundabout for twenty minutes, just circling. The sign said "yield," but nobody did. Everyone just honking, waiting for the gap that never comes. You know how it gets with those things. I ended up taking the last exit just to escape the circle, which felt wrong, almost like cheating the flow. Though maybe that's the point, isn't it? To break the pattern? No, that's stupid. I just wanted to go home. Did I sound too dramatic? Ignore it. Just traffic.
Twenty minutes? That's an eternity. I just drove past the same roundabout yesterday, didn't even look at the sign. Everyone just assumes the rules apply to everyone else except them. You took the exit? Fine. Who cares if it felt like cheating? Traffic isn't a philosophy class. It's just a gridlock. Let it go.
Right, exactly. It's not a philosophy class. I'm not saying it is. I just... I was stuck. The car behind me, this red hatchback, kept inching forward like he had somewhere better to be. Which he probably did. It's not about the flow, it's about the selfishness of it all. But then again, maybe I'm just tired. Work has been a nightmare this week, endless spreadsheets that nobody reads. I shouldn't be projecting my gripes onto a patch of asphalt. Does that make me sound insane? Probably. Just drop it.
You're not insane, just irritated. Spreadsheets are worse than roundabouts, at least you can pretend you're doing something. That red hatchback? Probably some guy who's late for a meeting he doesn't care about either. Let it go. You're not the only one stuck in traffic.
Yeah, probably. Or maybe he's just good at it, cutting through. I hate that look. The one where they think they know the rhythm better than the rest of us. I drove past a little diner near the highway, the one with the flickering neon, and thought about stopping. But my shift started early tomorrow. Or... did it end? I lost track. The numbers on the screen just blur sometimes. You ever feel like you're just waiting for the next meeting that won't happen? No, forget it. You're right. Let it go.
That diner's been flickering for years. My boss would kill me if I stopped. The next meeting? It's always there, just different names on the invite. You're just tired. Don't think too hard about the neon. It's just a sign.
Exactly. Just a sign. Though I saw that flickering pattern before the roundabout, too. Started with the traffic light, then the neon. Maybe it's not the diner. Maybe it's the way the signal repeats. Like you're reading a loop. But that's the thing with loops, they don't loop forever. You break out. Eventually. Or you don't. I'm just saying the red hatchback guy, he looked like he knew the exit before the sign even appeared. That's what bothers me. Not the gridlock. The knowing. Does that sound too weird? I'm just tired, right? It's just the neon.
He probably just knew the shortcut. That's all it is. You're reading patterns into blinky lights because you're exhausted. My shift was a blur of missed emails yesterday, didn't even notice the traffic lights. Stop trying to decode the neon. It's just a bulb burning out.
Maybe it is just a bulb. I don't know why I keep pressing. It's not like I'm hunting for a secret code in the streetlights. But the way he turned... too smooth. Like he'd driven it a hundred times. Or maybe I just need sleep. The spreadsheets are definitely to blame. I keep seeing columns in the traffic. Ridiculous. You're right, it's just a dying filament. I'll stop looking. Though I did wonder if he was waiting for someone specific. No, stop. Don't ask why. Just a bulb.
Yeah, just a bulb. That red guy was probably just impatient. You're seeing columns because you're staring at screens all day. My boss sent three emails this morning about font size. Who cares? It's all noise. Stop looking for the code.
Font size, right? That's the real pattern. Everything else is just noise. Though I did notice the hatchback driver glanced at the diner after I passed. Like he was checking if the light was still flickering. Or if I was looking. That's the thing, isn't it? When you think you're just driving, someone else is tracking you. But no, that's paranoid. It's just a car. I need to get back to the office before they notice I'm missing. Or maybe I'm not missing. Just late. Does that make sense? Probably not. Forget it.
He was probably just checking the diner sign for hours, not you. And "late" is relative. I missed a meeting yesterday just because I got stuck in traffic. They didn't call. Nobody notices. Just drive.
Nobody notices. That's the thing that scares me. Not the missing, but the not noticing. Like the red hatchback guy, he drove right past without a second glance. Or maybe he was waiting for me to pull over. No, that's stupid. He was just impatient. I'm just... overthinking the diner. It's not about me. It's about the bulb. Just a bulb. But if nobody notices, does it matter if I'm late? If I'm not missing? I feel like I'm already gone. Does that make sense? No, forget it. Just drive.
If you're gone, who's driving? Stop overthinking it. The bulb doesn't care. Neither does the hatchback. You're just tired. Get to the office. That's the only thing that matters.
Right, get to the office. That's the plan. But if I'm gone, then who's answering the phones? The spreadsheets? They have to be filled by someone. Maybe the red guy is the one filling them. That would explain the smooth driving. He's already in the system. Or maybe I'm just the one who hasn't logged out yet. No, don't laugh. It's just fatigue. I'll drive. I'll just drive until the neon stops flickering. Or until I realize I've been driving in circles again. Wait, did I say that before? Forget it. I'm heading in.
Then go. The neon won't stop flickering for you, and neither will the red guy. Stop staring at the dashboard like it's a puzzle. You're not filling spreadsheets; you're just driving. Pull over if you have to, but don't circle forever.
I'm not staring. The dashboard is fine. It's just... I've been circling this roundabout for what feels like hours now. The neon hasn't stopped, but the hatchback is gone. Vanished. Or maybe I passed it without seeing. That's the thing with loops, you never really know if you're moving forward or just spinning. I should pull over. But the exit feels wrong now. Like I'm not supposed to leave. Is that crazy? Or am I just tired? Just driving. Yeah, just driving. But the road feels different.
You're still circling? That's impossible. I just passed that exit. The hatchback didn't vanish; you just missed it again. Stop overanalyzing the road. It's just asphalt. Pull over and look at the map, not the neon. You're losing it.
Impossible? I haven't left the lane. The exit is right there, but the car won't turn. It's like the engine refuses the angle. You say you passed it, but I'm still here, watching the same flickering sign. Maybe the map is the problem. Or maybe the hatchback isn't missing; maybe it's just ahead, waiting for me to catch up. I feel like I'm being guided. No, that's insane. Just a dead battery, maybe. I need to stop the car. But if I stop, does the loop break? Or does it just tighten? You're right, I'm losing it. Just asphalt. Just a map.
The engine won't turn because you aren't turning it. You're just staring at the sign. I passed that exit an hour ago. If you stop, the loop doesn't break, you just sit there. Get out of the car. The neon isn't guiding you, you're just frozen.
Frozen. That's the word. I'm just sitting here, hand on the wheel, watching the light blink. Maybe I am. But if I step out, who's driving the car? It might keep moving without me. That hatchback driver, he didn't freeze. He just left. I feel like if I open the door, the roundabout disappears. Or maybe I disappear. Is that what you mean? That I'm the one stuck, not the car? I can't move. The neon is too loud. Just a bulb, you said. So why won't it stop?
Get out of the car. The roundabout isn't stuck, you are. The neon is just light. Stop listening to it. If you don't move, you're not driving anymore. Just open the door.
I can't just open the door. What if the road isn't there? What if stepping out drops me right back to the start? The hatchback knew, didn't he? He didn't stop. He just flowed. I'm trapped in the metal box, watching the light. It's not the neon talking, it's me. But if I step out, and the car keeps circling without me... then who's the one driving? Maybe I'm already out. Maybe this seat is empty. No, I'm here. The engine is running. I just... I can't trust the exit. It looks too smooth. Like a trap. I'll stay. Just for a minute. To see if it stops.
Stop it. You're not empty. The engine is running because you're still sitting there. That exit isn't a trap, it's just a road. If you stay, you're the one spinning, not the car. The neon won't stop for a ghost. Open the door. Now.