wreckage raze there's no one driving this car. just me in the passenger seat, two women in the back, and the voice of a man who calls me michael and tells me i'm going to hell. i knew that already. and that's_not_my_name. the woman behind me asks if i've got any good pictures. to her, a picture is a pithy comment. i reminisce about "runaway train". not the soul asylum song. the movie with jon voight and eric roberts. there's a quip i first heard there that i keep in my pocket and pull out from time to time: "that's worth about two dead flies." the other woman seems to speak in riddles. "i just wanted it to end," she says. "bombs going off." she says she was thinking about winter in biology class. "there's no other season quite like it," i say. "i'm glad it's not just me," she says. "all i want to do is ruin everyone's day." i think but don't say: you can't wreck what's already been broken. 261005 what's it to you? who go blather from