Linda, who walked to and from work every day. Who walked to and from the grocery store with her four bags of groceries. Who walked to and from the library burdened with at least ten science-fiction novels. Who was only every seen to walk anywhere. . . Had a car.

A whirring noise sounded from behind an uncovered parking space, and from what looked like the stable walls of the building, rolled back the electric door of a very tidy garage. Centered amongst uncommonly clean tools of the car repair trade was a black 2009 Toyota Prius.

“How the fuck do you hide a whole goddamned garage door?” Patricia asked, shoving past Linda to gawk openly at the car. “And why the hell is there a baby seat in the car?”

Linda did not answer and instead opened the trunk of the car, placing her suitcase inside one of the carefully fitted containers that kept the back organized.

“Does it still run?” Patricia continued, sliding inside the car after tossing her duffle bag into the back seat.

Patricia ran her finger over the dashboard and it came back gray with thick dust that seemed to coat the entire interior. “How long have you have the car? Why do you even have it? Don’t you walk everywhere for the environment or something? Damn, it’s dusty in here!”

Again, Linda made no response. She gently closed the trunk, then made her way to the driver’s side, carefully arranging the seat so that everything was perfect. Once the seat was arranged, Linda adjusted the steering window, then the review mirror, and both side-view mirrors before clipping in her seat belt. As a final precaution, she made a few more minor adjustments before turning the car on.

The car switched to life with nary a sound, and the climate adjusted itself to maintain a cool temperature of sixty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. The radio played the soothing tones of static and everything was as Linda had programmed it to be.

They passed the main street of the town, going exactly twenty-five miles an hour, then sped to thirty-five miles an hour once the signs advised as much. It was a smooth and quiet drive, and Linda felt herself unwinding with the predictability of the car as it switched from electric to the gas engine.

Until Patricia.

“I’ll puke to this music,” Patricia said as she fell to the dials and display for the radio. “And goddamn, I’m stifled in here, you gotta keep it cooler or I’ll get car sick, you know? Like, I really do get car sick. Actually, just thinking about it has got me kind of queasy, can we roll down the windows?”

Linda’s knuckles began to whiten around the steering wheel. It had not been a full hour yet.

“I’ll start singing whatever I can think of, and there’s a lot of country in my head, or I’ll just get bored, and I know how much you hate it when I get bored because I annoy the shit out of you, so let’s roll down a window at least cause I really am about to puke.”

Linda glanced at the window unlock button, then over at Patricia. There were no signs of queasiness on Patricia’s face, it hadn’t paled or greened in any way. In fact, Patricia was smiling as she rattled on. Linda tried to find her peace in the prattle of Patricia.

Patricia stopped talking. “Oh fuck.” She bent over and puked.

Linda’s lap was filled with a warm, slimy, and stench-filled puddle. She did not once swerve from the road, but her face did flinch.

“Sorry,” Patricia wailed as she puked again.

Linda found the exit from the interstate and waited at the stoplight.

“Oh my God, this is so awful!” Patricia continued to cry, her hands threatening to scoop up the puke.

“Don’t,” Linda warned, her eyes still sharply focused on the road.

Patricia sniffled. “Oh sweet baby Jesus, I am so sorry Linda, like, you don’t even know how sorry I am! Jesus, I am so fucking sorry, this was the worst idea ever, I should have told you I got carsick so easy or at least aimed somewhere else . . .”

Linda clicked her turn signal on and turned into the most accessible gas station. She parked at the furthest spot, turned off the air, then the radio and then the car.

The heat outside immediately swarmed inside the car, making the smell much worse.

Linda opened her door and inched her way out of the vehicle. With little other choices, she unfolded and the puke splashed down her skirt, slid down her pantyhose, and splattered against her shoes. Her clean, tidy, shoes.

She was certain she would kill Patricia.

“Oh look!” Patricia squealed, popping out of the car. “Piglets!”

Linda looked at the hazed distance and saw the vague outline of a sow followed by the pink forms of piglets. “I’m going to change.”

“I’m going to get some pets.” Patricia ran off towards the shapes.

Linda knew if she moved fast enough, she could leave before Patricia got back with the piglets.

She didn’t move fast enough.