Tiny cars are our problem. Tiny. Each car tinier than the last. Unnerving.
I see them in their smallness. Out in the streets. It is a wonder I do not crash my car in all my staring.
Question: How is it that a person – an average-sized human person with average-sized human hands, average-sized human legs, and a torso of sufficient dimensions to hold heart and lungs and gall bladder – could, with the laws of physics being what they are, fold into such a thimble?
Answer: They can’t. It simply cannot be done, the laws of physics being what they are. I have the charts to prove it. The grids. The equations. I have binder after binder of research. Affidavits from world-renowned geometricians.
It cannot be done and yet, driving down the road today (always down the road, for I have yet to witness one going up the slightest incline) I look over and into the next lane and I see a matchbox car with an average-sized human head poking up behind the steering wheel.
The head fills the entirety of the interior!
Hypothesis (though admittedly less than fully-formed): We are invaded. The invaders have come with their tiny cars and their (more or less) average-sized human heads with miniscule bodies. Or perhaps no bodies at all but mere tentacles sprouting just below the neck. Flagella, really.
Question: Have you seen a person, an honest-to-God human person, like your boss, your drug dealer, or your great uncle Charlie, climbing out from inside one of these tiny, tiny cars?
Answer: No, you haven’t. No, you won’t.
Tiny cars are our problem. An evil has arrived unnoticed. Perhaps – perhaps! – they have come from out in the stars or from some dimension a hair’s breath away or from inside the Earth itself, where they’ve been biding their time and waiting for oh-so-long.
Question: But waiting for what?