Who are they? How are they Doing?
When I was nine my family took a long trip from Kalamazoo, Michigan, USA to Atlanta, Georgia, USA. During the long drive, I stared out the window of our blue van for hours. Being autistic, I find it easy to daydream and get lost in my thoughts, as if I’m watching a movie instead of being in a body.
During one strange moment I watched a highway overpass as we drove above it. A car drove in my vision and my brain fixated on it. I wondered who might be in it. What their lives might be like. Are they happy? Sad?
Over the years, this car comes into my mind sporadically. I ask myself these questions every time: Who are they? How are they doing? The mystery and strange care in my heart for humans I will never meet or know fascinates me. Regardless, I hope they are well, and if some or all of them are dead, I hope they are in a better place.
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