Conversations with God
“Turn left,” she says. Confused, I ask “Why?” The black box responds, “Turn left now.”
“Fuck that,” I mutter, holding the car’s wheel steady. “Recalculating.”
“Heavy traffic ahead,” she says. Wanting an easy ride, I exit.
Suggested detour blocked by parked train, I turn around, find no traffic.
“Exit.” “Merge on again.” Directions make no sense. Colorful oaths fly.
Angry, I shut the GPS off. Screen goes blank. Where the hell am I?
©2019 Kenneth W. Arthur