The snow fell down past the windscreens in thick flurries, coating every surface in a layer of flawless white; newly fallen snow. The trees that sat in front gardens of the surrounding houses turned from green leaves to an ice-cream complexion. Unfortunately, the snow didn’t stop at the footpaths, pavements and treetops; it scurried in the tiny gaps between each trembling car.
She sat impatiently in the backseat of one of them, a blurry grey Ford Focus whose windscreen was covered in icy fractals that didn’t seem to leave, no matter how much the wipers tried to scrape them off. It seemed like there were thousands of cars in front of that one, all waiting on this never-ending road.
“Are we there yet?” she asked, digging her cold fingers deeper into her coat pocket.
“Does it look like we are?” he answered, tapping his finger on the steering wheel. Obviously, they were not there yet, wherever there was. There had to be at least half a dozen cars on this already congested road, that wasn’t made to hold more than three cars in each lane.
The concrete beneath the still wheels of the cars was glazed with slippery ice that was refusing to melt. Slowly, one after the other, the cars moved, like a train leading its carriages. Drivers rode out carefully, making sure that they didn’t skid on the road. She was anxious, however. This particular commutation seemed like it would have a large impact on her social wellbeing. It was her chance to be known, to be recognised in the only way that one could be.
“Come on! Just go, I’m going to be late!” he drove obediently, until there was just a few centimetres of space between the Ford and the Peugeot in front. She punched her hand into the seat, trying to vent her anger and anxiety.
Suddenly, the car at the front of the row roared into motion, causing all the cars behind to follow. The vehicles dispersed in all directions, leaving hers in the middle lane of deserted road, apart from the car in front of hers.
“Thank God,” she muttered under her breath, “Can you hurry up now, please? There isn’t any traffic.” He cursed in reply, and switched up a gear and pushed down on the accelerator, allowing the motor to moan and groan before speeding up the car. The wheels rolled swiftly over the ice, causing them to skid and slip on the frost.
The vehicle in front, a gloomy Hyundai, couldn’t move. Frozen cold was stuck between the wheel and the top, making any motion undoable. Her car was uncontrollable; it moved and turned out of its own accord, making swirls in the permafrost below.
Due to her consistent hurry, she didn’t strap on her seatbelt, causing her to dig those carefully painted fingernails into the surface of the glove box in front of her, whilst shutting her eyes and trying to make sense of the conundrum that caused her – and her car – to convulse so determinedly.
The vehicle she sat in soared quickly towards the one in front, continuously venturing to meet the Hyundai’s own icy surface.
The inevitable then hit.