The In Between

I can't stand it at home.
I'm just as miserable at work.

But then there's the in between– the twenty or so minute drive to and from the office.

It's only there that I'm in total control. Turn left. Drift right. Increase speed. Downshift. Full stop. It's only there that everything is familiar. From the muffled sound of the engine's idling just under 1000 RPM, to the feel of the independent wishbone suspension at 120 km/h. It's only there that I can think and process– and I slowly figure things out because reason and meaning begin to materialize out of the organized chaos.

And it's only there, in the in between, in the twenty or so minute drive to and from the office, that I find peace.