blinkers

Every human being steers a car with a flashing blinker: a bright, guiding light ticking to some uncoordinated beat. Staring out the windshield, you can watch the individual lights wink at you, each on its own, sometimes coinciding with the lights beside it, but only for a moment before blinking to its own drum again. Following directions, you switch them on at the next turn. But these directions are unclear and that street comes out of nowhere and you swerve, without a light, without a warning. You send a bolt of confusion and startling reaction through the drivers behind you. They question your capabilities on the road. But that turn was unexpected, even though you knew it was coming. Suddenly the straight street you'd been staring at takes a curve and you slow down to keep up. You tell yourself you are in control. You don't even know where you're headed.