Sunrise

by Caleb Klaces

I turned the corner and spied a nice car.
I opened the door, pulled out the driver
and got in. I played music on the radio.
I drove along the road. It was dark and
the lights were broken. I screamed
around the corner and knocked another
car into a lamppost. I swapped vehicle
for a parked van. In the van the radio
made me feel odd. I drove through a
park. It was as though it was played on
the wrong instruments. It was empty
and confusing. It might just have been
another park. The driver from before
was running around the dark lake. I
turned off the radio. I drove around
the dark lake. I was driving around the
lake but then I headed for the power
station. The horizon in the window
was further than I thought. I drove
for a while. I felt odd with no music.
I parked the van. I found a pair of
headphones on someone else so that
I could listen to music while I looked
around the power station. I walked
along the pavement to the far corner.
I walked around the corner. Each of
the corners led to another one. I turned
in the other direction. It was the same.
But the original direction was better.
I span in that direction and took the
corners when they arrived. The sun
was coming up. There was a nice car
but I did not get it. I thought that around
the corner I would see something else.
There was sunlight coming through.
I drew the curtains. The headphones
were gone. I threw aside a manhole
cover and climbed down. The music
in the tunnel was like water dripping
on water. There was so much light.
I walked through the tunnel. I walked
through the tunnel. I walked and then
it was too bright and then I went on.