Shotgun - David Pastuszka

Sweaty palm on the stick-shift.

Seatbelt buckled.

Rolled down passenger side window.

Get in.

Yes, you.

Are you nervous?

You seem flustered,

Rustling denim on seat, leather.

You squirm and grasp

For an outro handle, why?

15 minutes hasn't passed yet.

Oh, me?

I've been waiting for

So much

Longer.

Hungrier, lower,

Fuse spark closer.

I've gone all in.

I'm putting all my chips down

And pulling out all stops

On you.

Oh, you.

You and your

New frames, new hair

New tailored cowboy hat.

No braces, new age.

See what a week can change?

I'll show you what

A few hours

Can do to you

If you get in.

Yeah, I can.

I'm your ride

And you're my shotgun.

I need you steady and ready.

So breathe the hours in

And hand over more than a "maybe."

You're not coming back the same.

Shaky fingers on keys, ignition.

Buckle clicked in place.

I won't waste another second.

Get in.

---

David Pastuszka is a sophomore linguistics major at SUNY Albany. He writes mostly to illuminate himself or humor others.