Empty Roads

By Matt Spaetzel

I honked, rudely gesturing at the vehicles surging onto the highway ahead.

“Too many people,” I said.

Walt nodded, watching traffic inch along.

“We need another plague,” I went on, trying to switch lanes. “Wouldn’t take much. Swarm of nanites up ten million noses, severing brain stems. Roads would clear overnight.”

Walt nodded again.

I stared at the sea of aluminum, steel, and smoke. “It is a grim topic. But what’s worse—overpopulation, crowding, or nanites up the nose? I can’t be the only person thinking it.”

“No,” Walt muttered. “You’re not.”

We drove a while in silence.

My nose itched.