The parking lot was shrouded in darkness, despite the lamp poles casting their pale light at every corner. The night felt heavy, like a cloak with no moon to cut through the gloom. She fumbled through her purse, fingers grazing over familiar items until she found her keys. It felt like she walked miles to her car, the weight of the night pressing down on her. Once inside, she turned on the engine, its hum breaking the silence. Instead of taking the local highway toward her apartment, she took the parkway. The road was empty, not a single car in sight. She drove on, lost in the shadows, the night stretching endlessly before her.
She had expected to feel exhausted after working 16 hours without a break, but instead, a surprising sense of relaxation washed over her. The window was down, and the crisp fall wind rushed in, carrying with it the scent of damp leaves and the coolness of the night. The highway stretched out before her, a ribbon of asphalt flanked by dark silhouettes of trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. No beeping, no cries, no moans, no shouts—just a profound stillness enveloped her, as if the world had pressed pause. In that moment, she soaked in the luxury of complete quiet, the absence of flashing lights and the relentless intercom announcements a balm to her frayed nerves.
What lay ahead, she didn’t know. Maybe she would just keep driving until the car ran out of gas or until exhaustion made it impossible to keep her eyes open. For now, though, she felt alive, energy coursing through her, the gas tank full. So she continued along the parkway, allowing her mind to drift into a state of nothingness. No thoughts, no worries—just the comforting rhythm of the tires against the asphalt and the cool wind rushing through the window. In this moment, she found solace in the absence of direction, relishing the freedom of simply being.
When was the last time she had driven out of Long Island? A year? Two? It felt like ages since she’d navigated the 278 or the Cross Island Parkway without the usual gridlock. The absence of traffic on this typically busy highway felt strange, almost eerie, yet it filled her with a sense of freedom. In this stillness, she could drive anywhere, unburdened by thoughts of work or the weight of others' expectations. In that moment, she felt liberated, free from all her responsibilities. She knew she would email her director to say she wasn’t feeling well and would update her on when she could return to work. But deep down, as she settled into the driver’s seat, she understood that she would never return to her old life.
Normally, Ella didn’t like driving long distances. She’d get bored or tired after a few hours, and her nerves always tightened on the highway—too many trucks, too many speeding cars, too much noise demanding her attention. But today was different. The road was almost empty, no motorcycles zipping by to steal her focus. To her surprise, she found herself enjoying the ride, the steady rhythm of the tires on asphalt, the quiet stretch of the world unfolding ahead of her.
She had lost count of how many towns, rest areas, or golden arches she had passed. Just then, her cell phone rang—it was the hospital. She almost let it go to voicemail, but knowing she couldn’t do that, she pressed “answer” on her car console.
“Yes, Ella here,” she said.
“Dr. Ella, can you come in? I know it's your day off, but we’re shorthanded and were hoping you could help out.”
Ella took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and elation. “I’m afraid I can’t,” she replied. “I’m near the border of Maryland and Virginia, and I won’t be able to make it in time for the next shift. I’m sorry.”
The nurse on the other end consulted with others on the floor before returning to the line. “Of course! Enjoy your time off, Hay, Ella, be careful out there.”