He stomps his foot on the pedal. Everything goes fast. His young cheeks shake. From the dark, a tree emerges. Gearing up to fifth he continues towards it. He gets closer and closer.
In a hospital hallway, nurses do rounds. He’s lain in bed asleep since the crash. One shines a flashlight to his pupils. Weeks, and still no reaction.
Where he is, he’s behind the steering wheels, engine howling, hood imploding against that tree. Again, again, again, without a single delay.
He has tried to brake to end the loop, tried to steer away, but he never has enough time.