Tenuous and fickle, intense and codependent- is how I would best describe the relationship between me and my GPS. Her faceless personality and brash demeanor guide my driving, as she interrupts my conversations, my sing-alongs, and sense of direction. She reminds me how small I am with her simulated projections and pixelated cartography. She shouts and barks, “be in the third lane from the right!” NO. I challenge her, what can I get away with before she “recalculates my route,” her curt tone demanding I make a U-turn. She says I need her, that I’d get nowhere in life without her worldly connections. We bicker, and she’s exhausted, now sleeping in my glove compartment next to the car manual I’ve never opened.
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