Here is what my mirrors look like on a Cressida similar to mine.

I stare at the Sunchaser, but my brain is consumed with Cressida.

At the end of every day I drive through the city of Fresno and I cross the road that will take me home. I feel the words building inside me, I can’t stop them, or tell you why I say them, but as I reach the front of my carport these words come to me in a whisper. I say these words as a prayer, as regret, as praise, I say: Cressida, Cressida.