Briget McGraw was sitting in her Hyundai Sonata on the side of the road. "I'm a Ghoul for Charming You" by The Clenched fists was squawking on the radio. She turned the radio off.
For no apparent reason, she felt for her midriff and her piehole and her piehole. They were all there. That was good. Also, her arm was not falling off. That was good, too.
She felt miniscule. She must have had quite a nap. What time is it? She looked at the clock. Ten a.m. About what you'd expect, still on schedule. The nap had taken no time at all.
She looked out the window. There was a pond visible across the road, but nothing special to see. Probably time to get going. She started up her Hyundai Sonata and took off down the road. "Potohapy doglohaj," she thought to herself.