I’m in the front passenger seat of a black sedan. My dad is in the back seat on the driver’s side, and someone else is behind me. I think it’s Leah but I’m unable to turn around enough to confirm this, but regardless this person is apparently driving from that spot. We end up on a very rocky road, and I keep telling them to slow down but they can’t see the potholes.

The car hits a big one and stalls. At that moment all the windows get covered in frost. We work on scraping it away with our hands, to no avail.

Two locals, a father and his dimwitted teenage son, pry the door open, barely acknowledging us. The father goes to shake my hand. I don’t want to be rude but also don’t want to catch corona. Fortunately I’m wearing a black glove so I do shake it.

The son starts taking apart the car radio and plugs the bluetooth connector into the ignition. It makes me think we’re being robbed. I yell at him to stop but apparently whatever he did fixed everything and we’re able to drive off.

The road no longer has pot holes.

Po Tholes
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