There’s a grey hatchback
There’s a grey hatchback outside my window. An older model. The car has been parked in the same spot for two straight weeks. Nobody seems to have noticed.
The car was caked in snow for a while, glistened with rain, now it’s dry, dirty streaks on the side, but dry on this cloudy day. There’s nothing visibly wrong with the car, nothing shattered or smashed in, at least on the one side I’ve seen from my living room window.
I don’t care enough to check the other side. I know one morning I will get up and the car will be gone, without announcement or ceremony, and I might not even notice, on to the next worry or minor preoccupation on the eternal list.