Jack watches the road hums to himself and doesn’t have to turn to see Jane curled against the passenger door asleep can feel her there but does glance now and again in the rearview to check on Jesse who seems to be meditating or sleeping sitting with hir eyes closed palms flat on hir knees hir chest rising and slowly falling again under the camera ze’s left mounted in its bracket on the ceiling which Jack had to admit is getting some beautiful road footage of the desert the highway and the sky like the physical representation of pure thought and then Jack’s thinking about thinking as he slips into the alpha wave of pure drive through forms drifting and nothing real nothing forgotten nothing remembered every path the slow throb of the car and he isn’t thirsty and doesn’t have to piss and isn’t hungry or tired and the car’s not riding the road but flying ever so slightly above it and he’s not sitting but levitating over the leather and nothing connects to anything except through the idea of it like the car rides the idea of the road and the idea of riding and the car is an idea too and so is not-car and not-road and even not-Jack and not-Jane and not-Jesse and trinity and God and death and if he drove fast enough they’d fly off the planet into space not-space which is the idea of non-ideas so he drives faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster