by Allison Douglas Nicolas Dmitrichev I have nothing to be upset about. It’s just that when you’re driving down a curvy country road fantasizing about the car reeling off of it resulting in your bloody death, your attention should probably be roused. When you miss your turn because you’re carried away imagining the pain of your skull cracking the windshield alongside the scream and force of crushing metal, you should probably take notice. When it feels good to think this way,