seamless like my skin

night driving with a good soundtrack may very well be one of my favorite things to do. it's right up there with washing my hands and watching old disney movies on you-tube [did you know you could do that?].
the other night, it was me and barclay and the beatles, and barclay's dad was driving [barclay's dad loves the beatles, cribbage, and Christmas music]. the guys were in the front, talking in late pm voices. i was sprawled out in the back seat, playing the window like a piano with my right hand.
that sort of thing drives me nuts when other people do it.
but i do it.
"we're sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band, we hope you will enjoy the show..."
i closed my eyes. the car sped smoothly along on the highway. i felt us hit a bump and jerk sideways.
we were suddenly straddling the road and the grassy ditch. i kept my eyes closed. i was indifferent. we could drive in the ditch if we felt like it, i thought.
i felt the tickle in the pit of my stomach as we plunged over the edge.
i smiled.
we crashed through somebody's fence. through a child's carefully constructed snowman. through a doghouse.
to be honest, i don't know what became of the dog.
a few more yards. a flower bed here, a lawn chair there, possibly even a person or two. but we didn't slow.
we gained so much speed that we left the ground and just doodled around the sky for a few minutes in the krause's little blue matrix.
then we returned to the road, because that is where good people drive.
i opened my eyes and studied the cityscape.
and thought about how seamless the transition is sometimes--that is, the one between when you're awake and when you're not.