The man laid the lighter down on the dashboard of the car, his other hand holding a thin cigarette to his lips. He was of a stocky build, broad and sturdy with a sunken and aged face that reflected his gnarled hands. He went to roll down the window as he held the smoke in his lungs from the cigarette, the reflection of his compatriot disappearing as it went down. The other man sitting in the front seat with him was not as broad as his compatriot, though still a little stocky himself. His body was somewhat wrinkled but not as sturdy, his hands smoother and less gnarled. His eyes were wide-open and looking around erratically, before turning back to the driver.

“Did-did you-”

The driver puffed out of his longs and out of the window, the smoke curling around the tree trunk the car was nestled in, rocking gently but stably. He turned back to the passenger, his eyes slowly closing and opening.

“Yea.”

The passenger blinked.

“W-why did you-”

The driver shrugged, flicking the cigarette out the window.

“You said you needed a day off.”

As the driver turned around and towards the backseat, rummaging around in the garbage and boxes, the passenger ran his hands through his hair, his jaw somewhat agap.

“Yes, but… This? You said you needed help moving something in the early morning, and you go and fucking RAMP the car into a tree?”

The driver grunts, still turned towards the backseat, his hands currently looking through a weighted plastic bag. “Mhm.”

The passenger sits back into his heat, exhaling and looking up at the tettering roof.

“We could fall backwards or forwards at any minute, the police will surely be here within the hour, a-and my boss will-”

The driver grabbed from within the plastic bag a medium-ish wooden box and returned to the front seat, before slowly turning towards the passenger.

“The car won’t fall, I already told the police, and your boss will hear about this in the news. You’re fine.”

The passenger blinked again.

“W-what?”

The driver fully turned towards the passenger. “Look, I know a couple guys, they got us covered. The police will be here in three hours, and my contacts have everything else lined up; don’t worry about it.”

The passenger, now looking at the driver, lowered his hands from his hair and onto the arm rests of the seat.

“So… what’s the plan?”

The driver opened the box. “This is the plan,” he said, reaching into the box and pulling out two bottles of vintaged beer, holding them towards the passenger. The passenger, his eye brows raised, slowly reaches up and grabs one. The driver, using his spare hand, reaches back into the box and pulls out a sack, which he drops into the passenger’s lap. The passenger reaches down and un-ravels the sack, revealing two sandwiches, one chicken salad and one pastrami, along with a variety of crackers and cheeses. The driver places his own food on his lap, before finally reaching into the box and pulling out a bottle opener. The passenger snorted.

“I mean, if you wanted to just skip work, we coulda gone to Cherie’s food place.”

The driver snorted himself.

“Eh, wanted somewhere quiet and with a good view.”

“A good…?”

The passenger looked out the front of the car. The city spanned out below them, buildings both modern and old-as-time stretching out below them like a spotted cat. The city gave way to rolling, green hills, themselves dotted with small farms. Finally, the mountains of the distance yield to the pink and gold of the sky, the sun just shy of clearing its head over the ridges. As the passenger looked out, the driver took the bottle opener, popping open both drinks in quick succession, and holding his out towards the passenger.

The passenger turned back to the driver, and after a moment, smiled. He raised his own bottle, and clinked it against the driver’s before both men leaned back into their seats and watched the sunrise.

“Did-did you-”

The driver puffed out of his longs and out of the window, the smoke curling around the tree trunk the car was nestled in, rocking gently but stably. He turned back to the passenger, his eyes slowly closing and opening.

“Yea.”

The passenger blinked.

“W-why did you-”

The driver shrugged, flicking the cigarette out the window.

“You said you needed a day off.”

As the driver turned around and towards the backseat, rummaging around in the garbage and boxes, the passenger ran his hands through his hair, his jaw somewhat agap.

“Yes, but… This? You said you needed help moving something in the early morning, and you go and fucking RAMP the car into a tree?”

The driver grunts, still turned towards the backseat, his hands currently looking through a weighted plastic bag. “Mhm.”

The passenger sits back into his heat, exhaling and looking up at the tettering roof.

“We could fall backwards or forwards at any minute, the police will surely be here within the hour, a-and my boss will-”

The driver grabbed from within the plastic bag a medium-ish wooden box and returned to the front seat, before slowly turning towards the passenger.

“The car won’t fall, I already told the police, and your boss will hear about this in the news. You’re fine.”

The passenger blinked again.

“W-what?”

The driver fully turned towards the passenger. “Look, I know a couple guys, they got us covered. The police will be here in three hours, and my contacts have everything else lined up; don’t worry about it.”

The passenger, now looking at the driver, lowered his hands from his hair and onto the arm rests of the seat.

“So… what’s the plan?”

The driver opened the box. “This is the plan,” he said, reaching into the box and pulling out two bottles of vintaged beer, holding them towards the passenger. The passenger, his eye brows raised, slowly reaches up and grabs one. The driver, using his spare hand, reaches back into the box and pulls out a sack, which he drops into the passenger’s lap. The passenger reaches down and un-ravels the sack, revealing two sandwiches, one chicken salad and one pastrami, along with a variety of crackers and cheeses. The driver places his own food on his lap, before finally reaching into the box and pulling out a bottle opener. The passenger snorted.

“I mean, if you wanted to just skip work, we coulda gone to Cherie’s food place.”

The driver snorted himself.

“Eh, wanted somewhere quiet and with a good view.”

“A good…?”

The passenger looked out the front of the car. The city spanned out below them, buildings both modern and old-as-time stretching out below them like a spotted cat. The city gave way to rolling, green hills, themselves dotted with small farms. Finally, the mountains of the distance yield to the pink and gold of the sky, the sun just shy of clearing its head over the ridges. As the passenger looked out, the driver took the bottle opener, popping open both drinks in quick succession, and holding his out towards the passenger.

The passenger turned back to the driver, and after a moment, smiled. He raised his own bottle, and clinked it against the driver’s before both men leaned back into their seats and watched the sunrise.