From the comfort, familiarity and safety of my bed I jumped into a cocoon of metal, rubber and glass.
Yesterday, this morning and even this afternoon.
Tomorrow will be the same.
The only way to see the outside world is through the upper levels of glass and my contact being the bits of rubber that fleetingly caressed the tar.
Everyone else was in their own cocoon, different styles and colours.
The airwaves were filled with one of those breakfast shows where the presenter is bouncing off the walls with energy.
Every morning, the navigator and I make use of this cocoon.
Because the space so small, so intimate, we are forced to communicate... arb* topics as well: the rain, the weekend, how is so and so...who cares?
Even something as mundane as driving to work can inspire a bit of a story.
My muse definitely needs a raise.
*A lil shorty word for arbitrary.