We sat and watched the cars pass. Dozens and dozens went by in a rush, and then there were none. The highway filled with silence, embolism-like. It was peaceful at first and then I noticed my own leg juddering. “Maybe it’s just that some were going faster than others,” Kelly said. “What I mean is that maybe the fast ones whizzed by first — they would, you know – and then the slightly slower ones, and now we’re in a position of waiting for the slowest ones.” Kelly had studied speed and cars and the overlap between the two, so I gave the statement weight. I shifted in my chair and prepared for the resumption of...I do not know how to express what I was prepared for the resumption of, exactly...of things, it is perhaps most accurate to say. I went forward to the edge, sharpened how I was seeing what I saw. But no more cars came, not slow ones, not any, and it was just the road there for us to look at, black tending gray, scabbed dashes of yellow going right up the middle as far as we could see. “Still, much can be done with the open road, space interleaved with space,” Kelly said. “We are at our best when we are not at the throat of a problem. Open the floodgates and let ideas come on through.” I had forgotten that the brain was another thing that Kelly had studied. I did what he said: gates, flow. Theta waves climbed back over betas. It is not surprising to be influenced by an expert.
©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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