There were these two guys sitting in the back seat lost in esoteric discussion about this or that. Whether or not reality was really there or if it even mattered that much. Hard to say. The driver had his two hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel at ten to two. His hair was flying in the wind because the side window was rolled down. Wide open to all the noise and congestion and other myriad vibrations. The automobile hit a bump, but the conversation in the back continued undisturbed. The next turn was pretty sharp and the wheels screeched and the dust went flying, but the two pseudo-philosophers in the back seat just continued to chat and babble and say a million things while at the same time not saying that much really. Whether or not reality was really there and whether it mattered that much was the tone of voice which mimicked the vibrations outside. The driver turned left. He did not see it, but then again it was too late anyway. Abruptly in all of the excitement there was silence, after the huge crash of course. You see, the poor dog escaped unscathed with only a slight limp, but the large oak tree caught the philosophical discussion and the weary driver in its grip, splitting the car sideways and hurling the minds and bodies every which way. It did not matter any more whether or not what they were talking about was important or not. Strange how things can happen so unexpectedly this way or that. Reality was there just waiting for it all to happen.