The Passenger Seat Is Not Empty

The car is quiet now, the engine off, but your hand still reaches across the empty space. You reach for the belt that isn't there.

You click for a passenger who has gone. That hollow sound in the silence is the heaviest thing in the world right now.

It is the gathering dark telling you that you are alone. But look at the space beside you.

It is not empty. The light that walked the earth did not leave a vacuum when it departed; it left a presence that fills the whole car.

You are not driving through the night by yourself. The one who knows your name is sitting right there, in the seat you thought was lost.

You do not have to fasten them in to know they are held. The belt is gone, but the companionship remains.

The darkness gathers, but it cannot crowd out the one who rides with you.