I Am Secretly An Imposter Man

Sitting there stopped at a red light, I knew instantly that he was the man.

Controlling the world from the driver’s seat of a ’97 Nissan Sentra.

The power emanating from this four-cylinder, compact death machine was immense.

All the assembled vehicles silently trembled at its terrible presence.

When the light changed nobody else moved.

We just sat there watching the two of them slowly roll away.

Secure in the knowledge that they could kill us at any time.