I grip the steering wheel and gasp, blinking back tears. California drivers pass me at speeds well over the 65 MPH limit, honking rudely and flipping the bird, all because they have places to go and people to see and I got in their way. It takes a lot of maneuvering (and telling myself out loud that I will not die like road kill) before I manage to make it to the sidelines without impact. The reality of what’s happening hits me hard: My tires are indeed flat, my tailgate is dragging on the asphalt, and if I don’t pull over soon I’m going to get hit. I wait a few seconds, taking a deep breath….and a scraping sound comes from behind. Someone swerves around me while I try to get into the next lane to my right. Cars rush past me, way too fast (or am I just slowing down?) and their drivers are angry. My hands are shaking (Is this an earthquake?!) and my heart is pounding in my throat. There’s a loud clunking noise that makes me want to shriek to the high heavens, but I can’t, because my jaw has locked my mouth shut in fear.įor three-point-five seconds, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m jolted by two separate bumps, one right after the other, followed by the terrible yet inevitable noise: - That’s my only warning before my car jerks to the left, then to the right, then back again.

I am the most unsuspecting person, and all because of a golden sunset. I’m enthralled at the sight of it all, basking in its beauty, with music blasting and the windows rolled down and my (too long) hair whipping against my glasses.

A splash of color here, a blinding sunray there, the dark skyline bleeding into the rest. This-this moment of suspension-is what I love most about my drive home from work. The sky is neither blue nor black rather, it’s a mix of in-between purples and pinks and oranges, and for just a few minutes the world shines like a bright star before it’s plunged into darkness. That way I can see all the signs as they’re lit up in flames along the road, their words unreadable, all the buildings glowing in the evening sun. Sometimes I like driving east when the sun is setting in the west.

The Color Project by Sierra Abrams