Nancy Dyer

“The unending streams of trucks and cars made him think of the poisons they spewed into the bitter winter air, tried to imagine all the vehicles in the world belching toxins in a catatonic cacophonic frenzy from place to place like maddened wasps. He’d always figured it was world suicide: if you want to die just drive into your garage, shut the door, and turn the engine on. And the atmosphere was one big closed garage”
― Mike Bond, Snow