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Description
As I migrated my way through the rushing wave of metal atop a concrete ocean floor, I found a motorist with which to follow.  While some deviated one way or another, the mass at large surged forward in an effort to seek their own piece of shore.  The shining blue Z and its wide rear fin was headed in the same direction as the rest.  It's pace was steady, as opposed to the oscillation of brake lights and variable speed of travel.  The shortest distance is not a straight line, but instead, bringing the two points together.  Stepping of point A onto point B would be most ideal, but the transit system has yet to break free from corporate monopoly's and as such, what once was travel hath become traffic.

The shining Z with its brilliant blue finish glistened and left in its wake the expected pollution.  Attached to its bumper was a ribbon that had come to represent many social issues to conquer.  Thoughts of soldiers, suicide prevention, or other meanings came to mind.  Deviants migrated to less expeditious lanes as to land ashore, but I maintained my course enough to finally catch a glimpse of this ribbon: it stood as symbol for the fight against cancer.  Upon this realization, the driver raised his hand above the hood of his brilliant Z and let go a spent cigarette that danced off the windshiled of my less fancier car.

While the other deviants moved for ground, I could see that the Z would maintain its gambling course and a strange sense of irony fell over me.  That by sporting and supporting such a cause, the driver of the Z's course was not to shore, but to an island where the hope that a cure could be found before the cigarettes singed the ribbon to all but obscurity.

Description
As I migrated my way through the rushing wave of metal atop a concrete ocean floor, I found a motorist with which to follow.  While some deviated one way or another, the mass at large surged forward in an effort to seek their own piece of shore.  The shining blue Z and its wide rear fin was headed in the same direction as the rest.  It's pace was steady, as opposed to the oscillation of brake lights and variable speed of travel.  The shortest distance is not a straight line, but instead, bringing the two points together.  Stepping of point A onto point B would be most ideal, but the transit system has yet to break free from corporate monopoly's and as such, what once was travel hath become traffic.

The shining Z with its brilliant blue finish glistened and left in its wake the expected pollution.  Attached to its bumper was a ribbon that had come to represent many social issues to conquer.  Thoughts of soldiers, suicide prevention, or other meanings came to mind.  Deviants migrated to less expeditious lanes as to land ashore, but I maintained my course enough to finally catch a glimpse of this ribbon: it stood as symbol for the fight against cancer.  Upon this realization, the driver raised his hand above the hood of his brilliant Z and let go a spent cigarette that danced off the windshiled of my less fancier car.

While the other deviants moved for ground, I could see that the Z would maintain its gambling course and a strange sense of irony fell over me.  That by sporting and supporting such a cause, the driver of the Z's course was not to shore, but to an island where the hope that a cure could be found before the cigarettes singed the ribbon to all but obscurity.