At this hour there was not a single particle of dust levitating about in the vehicle. They had sunk overnight and specks could be spotted on the dashboard. Other than that, the dashboard remained the same as the day the car had been delivered. It had developed a slight gloss, that’s all. A car apparently used but tidy. The glove compartment was the only anomaly. Its surface retained the matte gray hue and the latch though not tested would be sure to yield a click high-pitched.

A swoosh of air entered the car along with it the sound of the city, and a man. Carter stretched his right leg upwards and brought himself up inside assisted by his grip on the door panel. The blank eyes are still with sleep in them while the lips are stiffened. It assumes the role of the brain that recites a schedule. A schedule executed too many times. Halfway through his commute to the warehouse the vigor would extend from the lips to the eyes. Pupils become slightly dilated and with focus soon to be offset by the rays of dawn. This was Carter’s ritual. Half his weight on the door panel when he hauls himself up, the four fingers would leave four temporary dents on the synthetic leather identical to the one on the dashboard. The full weight on the driver’s seat, the stout bottoms stretch the leather incrementally more. The compartment was breathing. Exhaling the little remaining fresh car smell of the factory, inhaling what Carter had exhaled. This was the ritual on the vehicle’s part. It was in the process of remembering its driver. Rituals would be present each morning.

The vehicle turned a sharp left at the intersection up the hill. The low growl of the engine subdued as it slid parallel to the other dozens of trucks with the same vibrant pink. Carter let out a yawn and stretched his arms upward while walking towards the warehouse. Fluorescent lights were emitted from high ceilings under which few other drivers were moving about. Carter walks up to the only man with a collared jacket.

“Harvey,” he said.

“Carter,” the man in responds glancing back. He briefly checks his Seiko. “You’re later than usual.”

“Yeah, I had some stuff to take care of,” Carter replied.

“Well, you’re later than usual, but you’re not late. That’s good enough for me. Anyways, here’s the list of locations that you need to deliver today. The usual locations.” Harvey was holding several clipboards, skimming the top one with both his eyes and an index finger. “Except for the Sinsa location? It seems. They didn’t file in any order for restock this week. That’s odd. But yeah, here you go,” said Harvey passing the clipboard.

The edges of the wooden board were soft, its color brown. Time had smoothened it so that no splinter could ever prick a surface of skin. Carter would say something back, but when he looks up from checking the list Harvey is already on his way. Carter walks over to the storage to check the boxes of cookies and crackers he has to deliver. On his way he realizes Harvey is his first word out of his mouth for many days of the week.