He was on his way home in the morning when he remembered. His studded tires should have been off the day before. $150 fine. There was a Friendly Tire Place down the road. He'd have to drag himself in and check out the wait time. He called his wife Cheri to make sure she was awake. If she didn't stay up half the night drinking coffee and watching old movies she'd get to work on time, but he'd told her that once too often. Got an earful about being married to the night shift for thirteen years.
The Friendly Tire Place wasn't too backed up. He'd meant to get his studded tires on their own wheels, but he'd never got around to it. This year he had to though. It would save $60 and that mounted up. He helped himself to free popcorn and bad coffee, picked up a Truck Trader and sat down to wait. They said an hour. He wondered how the girls in the office stood the smell of new tires. Probably they didn't notice it, but it seemed to him it must be eating their livers or malforming their unborn children.
He wasn't thinking anything particular when he felt them entering his mind. Maybe he had the emptiest mind in the universe at that particular moment and they streamed into the vacuum to experience with wonder and merriment the world he knew.
Who were they? He tried asking them in his head, but they did not seem to know he was there. Were they visitors from the long passed or the distant to come? Were they from another beingness beyond his comprehension or were they a class of primary students from Sri Lanka? One thing was certain. They did not know what deep dish chrome wheels were. They seemed to like the glitter though.
The kid with a crew cut and a weather red face was shaking his shoulder.
``Sir?''
The Others streamed out of his head in a nanosecond.
``Ready?''
``Ready.''
As he walked toward the door he turned to look with wonder at the chrome wheels arrayed like fine art on the Friendly Tire Place walls.