"Come on you fuckin' guy, move!" he said as he lays down on the horn. The car in front of his has its blinker on, and pulls out from its parking spot. As he drives forward to sneak into the spot, a motorcycle rider aggressively pulls into the spot, just beating him. Siph Yuss lets out a sigh. Despite the traffic stopped behind him and the cars honking, Siph remains stopped. He drops his head onto the wheel.

He's gone by different names before, but this is the one he landed on for time immeasurable. He doesn't remember how he landed himself in his car, a 1998 Ford Taurus, but he knows every inch of it. He can feel it breathing and humming as he sits there idling. As cars angrily shift over and pass him, he lets out a whimper to himself.

After a few moments, he starts driving again, looking for a new parking spot. There-there's one. A cab driver pulls out from a spot on the opposite side of the street. Siph shifts over a lane before seeing the fire hydrant sitting at the supposed spot. He can't park there. He can't park anywhere. He's been driving this thing for 26 years and he still hasn't been able to park it.

He's got an older bumper sticker on the back bumper; a large grey boulder that says "This thing rocks!" The edges are peeling upwards and the colors are faded, but it hangs in there. Siph drives down the street further, his eyes darting back and forth looking for open spots, looking to make the boulder stop.

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