Photo by Syed Hussaini on Unsplash

As I settled into the driver’s seat, the fob, ignition, and house keys slipped from my fingers. They fell between the seat and console before settling on the floor. I tried to reach them from the front floorboard, between the front and backseat, and the passenger seat. I had worked up a light sweat before I pinched something between my fingertips and the side of the driver’s seat. The headlights flashed twice. I had them. I dropped them.

My fingertips touched the fob again. A button depressed as I tried to walk it up between the console and side of the seat. The horn honked. Startled, I dropped the fob before I could turn the horn off. My fingers touched them again. This time I flicked them towards the backseat. I tried again from the backseat. Failed. Again from the driver’s seat, I pinched and retrieved them, then promptly shut the horn off. I rubbed the bruise on the back of my hand, a souvenir of my mighty battle with the fob.

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