Where are we

"Where are we," Rita ask staring out the window at the gathering fog.

"Somewhere between San Diego and Las Vegas," Mark turned his headlight on dim so they would not reflect back. "I think."

"What do you mean 'I think'? Don't you know where we are?"

"No, the GPS isn't working properly and..." the car engine died. Mark attempted to steer the, still moving, car to the should of the road, but with no success. The car continued to coast forward. "That's weird!"

"What," Rita glared at him, "that you don't know where we are?"

"No." He attempted to put on the breaks without success. "That the car's still forward, I thought we were driving up a mountain."

"Well don't put on the breaks," she hissed. "A car behind will hit us."

"Rita," he was holding so tightly to the steering wheel that his knuckles were turning white. "The engine died and all the lights are off, but the car is still moving up a mountain. Logic tells me that since we're still moving we should be coasting backwards." At that moment, the car turned toward the shoulder of the road.

"Stop the car," Rita shouted. "We'll roll off this mountain."

"Get out," Mark tried to open the driver's side door, but it was lock.

"Unlock the door," Rita cried, as the car came to a stop.

"I can't," Mark said staring into the darkness. "I can't even roll down the windows, Rita."

"You mean we're stuck in this car!"

"Until morning, anyway," he reached over and patted her hand. "Why don't you try to get some sleep."


"Mark," Rita said shook her husband awake. "Do you.."

"Nobody knows we are here" he said gaping at the meadow of white flowers surrounding the car. "Wherever here is."