It was 5:17 p.m.

I remember it so clearly.

Sometimes I close my eyes and I can still see it.

Miles and miles of cars.

Nobody was moving.

We were together.

Oh, to have that time again.

I wasn’t finished sitting there.

The brake lights ahead stretched out like a long red snake that had fallen asleep on the concrete.

It was magnificent.

And I didn’t appreciate it enough.

There was the mysterious phantom accident somewhere ahead.

By the time I arrived, it had vanished.

Meanwhile, my GPS remained faithfully by my side.

“A faster route is available.”

Oh?

Do tell.

My favorite is when it says:

“You saved 1 minute by taking an alternate route.”

ONE MINUTE.

Well, we can’t just leave it out there.

So off I go.

Now I’m driving through somebody’s neighborhood, past a school, two churches, and what appears to be a goat farm…

for ONE minute.

I don’t know where I am.

But I have saved a minute.

And then comes the truly exciting news.

“Estimated arrival: 6:56 PM.”

YESSSS.

6:56.

Not 7:00.

Seven o’clock sounds late.

So if I could relive one day from my past, I’d choose that day.

And who knows?

It might become a tradition.