His Settings

The seat was set for someone taller.

I moved it twice and both times

it drifted back before I reached the highway.

The mirrors showed too much sky.

I adjusted. Drove.

Kept checking them for things that weren't there.

A parking receipt in the cupholder—

face up, dated two weeks back,

an address I didn't recognize.

I didn't move it.

The radio was on a station

I'd have changed. I changed it,

then felt strange about that—

like I'd moved something in a room

that wasn't mine to rearrange.

I changed it back.

Forty minutes there. Forty back.

The whole drive slightly wrong

in a way that wasn't dangerous,

just persistent.

I unloaded the furniture.

Returned the keys.

He said how'd she handle.

I said great.

She handled fine.