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The upside down

Frank was driving when it happened. No warning. No dramatic music. Just a stretch of road doing what roads always do, asking you to keep moving. The sky was wide and indifferent. Joshua Trees flicked past like they were counting something he didn’t understand yet. His hands stayed steady on the wheel, muscle memory doing the work while his mind lagged a mile behind. Then it hit him. Not like a crash, more like the road quietly disappearing. Everything he thought was solid suddenly felt temporary. The plans. The reasons. The version of himself he’d been hauling around like a suitcase he never packed properly. The road didn’t change, but his place in it did. He pulled over without knowing why. Sat there with the engine running, heat rising off the hood like a wavy exhale after a long lie. His chest felt hollow, but not empty, more like it had been cleared out by force. Frank realized the problem wasn’t that things were falling apart. It was that they’d been upside down the whole time, and now Gravity was finally doing its job. The road stretched on ahead, unconcerned with his revelation. That was the mercy of it. No one was waiting for him to understand. He could take his time. When he drove again, it wasn’t with certainty. It was with honesty. And somehow, that was enough to keep the wheels moving forward.