you pick up your phone and the car starts rolling down the rural hill, speeding up you stay distracted texting the person who is sitting right next to you.
they panic and grab the wheel, frantically steering so you don't burst into embers fuled by petrol and the careless of your averted gaze.
they chafe a parked car, rubbing against it unbarebly like clammy palms as you stare at the shocking sentiments poured out from their screen onto yours as the only way they can communicate to you is through that glowing blue box.
as the cars chafe a shred of sharp rusted paint flies into their throat, leaving them choking until they bring up blood.
you do not look up until they are blue and floppy.
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