from tyler gibb
 
Acres and acres of corn stalks. The kind of sweeping aerial view that shows the wind's finger prints across the green fields.

  The center of an intersection which quarters the blanket of corn under billowing mid Western skies could have been the center of the universe this afternoon. For the people driving their cars along four converging roads, it would become just that.

  Down each green walled, blue ceilinged avenue, a car approached. Rows of corn swept by, hypnotically occupying the peripheral vision of all four drivers. Not one was aware of the presence of the others as the pairs driving towards each other were still too far in the distance so detect visually.

  Without regard for any speed limit the four were barrelling along the ancient pavement unaware of the intersection. Each was only a traveller

through this land of farms and open fields. Each was alone and very much dazzled by the rhythmic repetition of the rows. They drew nearer to one another and red octagonal signs came into focus.

  Speedometers bent back to the left and the four cars rolled gently up to faded white lines painted out from the stop-sign posts. All sixteen tires came to rest at the same moment and swayed there so very slightly.

  Engines hummed and rattled.

  All four lifted their feet from the break pedal, inched slightly forward and then stopped at the sight of motion from the others.

  The man heading south bound leaned forward in his seat and waved on the woman to his left. The woman heading westward offered passage to the man facing north who did the same for the woman to his left. This woman on an east bound course urged the next man on.

  And so there was a loop of courtesy.

  The wind pressed down the fields of corn about their intersection. No one moved forward. Each looked carefully over the others as thoughts about their travels fell behind them and a rising sense of wonder mounted within.

  Dangling key chains in each vehicle were rustled and simultaneously each engine fell silent.

  The silence was eerie and each driver trembled slightly.

  They panned over each other wide eyed. Something was happening at this intersection; something that involved these four strangers on a very personal and intimate level and they could all feel it.

  Latches were pulled and doors popped open. The cool wind was sucked into the cars and fluttered their clothing. Everyone stepped out onto the crumbling pavement and stood behind their car doors.

  There was a brief exchange all around of uncertain smiles which quickly twitched and sank into perplexion. The wind that swept once again harshly across the plain dishevelled their hair and tugged at their clothing.

  They all swallowed with concern; the illusion of some unifying empathy seemed to be leaving their bodies as though plucked by the wind and sifted through the rows of corn stalks. Self consciousness was spuming into their blood.

  In a flash, as quickly as they had all zoomed upon the intersection that severs this swaying mid Western surface, the four strangers hastened back into their automobiles. They locked their doors with the familiar paranoia of modern living returning to their systems.

  Momentarily there was a pause after the ignition keys had all been inserted back into their slots. There was a sudden relapse of the feeling that something great and undefinable was occurring but each respectively elected to turn their backs on the emotion. They quickly brushed off the events as a bizarre coincidence that they could now dismiss and get on with their journeys.

  Four engines roared to life and frightened a murder of crows up from the sea of gold and green and into the cloud tufted blue sky. The pattern of birds swooped away from the intersection like a silk stirred in a swirling pool.

  The cars were all thrown into gear in a hurry and four gas pedals touch the floor in unison.

  In a geometric synchronicity that had the four cars mirroring each other, there was a collision in the center of the intersection that perfected the symmetry of the surrounding landscape.

  No, the cross roads that quartered a corn field under a sweeping mid Western sky on that afternoon may not have been the center of the universe. But for four strangers it would make a pretty good story.