Through the Windshield

The shadows softened and a sudden warmth rushed through my limbs. I was sitting packed tightly inside the cab of a red toy truck. I clenched my plastic fingers, testing the tension in my wrists, and pushed my palms against the clear plastic windshield. The plastic barrier vibrated with a dull thud beneath my touch. Outside, the vast room stretched into the dim night. I squared my shoulders, locked my gaze forward through the transparent screen, and planted my boots firmly on the floorboard, ready for whatever contest awaits.