or when the road looks so much more dangerous.
the dds is a safe place.
safe place.
safe.
place.
i swallowed the thought obsessively as my mother gave me directions to drive in the parking lots of the department of driver services and the county courthouse. my foot was tentative in actually pressing down on the brake and gas pedals, one of which was much less sensitive than the other.
"you're crashing into the cars!" my mother cried out, even though she only meant it in an imaginary sense. the lots were all empty. it was my mind that was crowded.
the shouting wasn't shouting. it was just her being direct, and i know that, but that didn't keep me from stopping the car and crying for a moment.
safety doesn't mean i have to be wholly confident. i'm not very comfortable with that fact, even though facts must be my forte.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
