It was a cold rainy day. Mrs. Mitty sat in the passenger seat of her old red 1982 Buick. She worried about her husband who sat next to her driving the car. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head. He hadn't been the same since his accident.
Mr. Mitty just sat there silently staring at the road ahead. The car began to go "ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa."
"Why didn't he talk anymore," Mrs. Mitty thought to herself. "I wish he would go see Dr. Renshaw. Maybe he could help him." Mrs. Mitty began to stare at her husband, "Where is his hat its cold out. Look at him he didn't even bother to comb his hair." She seemed to pick out everything that he did wrong.
"Not so fast! You're driving too fast!" said Mrs. Mitty. "What are you driving so fast for?"
Mr. Mitty just looked at her, "Hmm?" he said.
"You old fool," Mrs. Mitty said under her breath. "He shouldn't be driving anymore, the poor man is having a vision again," she thought to herself.
"You were up to fifty-five," Mrs. Mitty told him, "You know I don't like to go more than forty. You were up to fifty-five."
"You're tensed up again," said Mrs. Mitty. "It's one of your days. I wish you'd let Dr. Renshaw look you over." She was very worried about her husband when he was like this.
"Pocketa-pocketa-pocketa," went the car as it slowly came to a stop in front of Magical Manny's Hair Dues. "Remember to get those overshoes while I'm having my hair done," Mrs. Mitty said as she began to put on her face.
"I don't need overshoes," said her husband with a grim look on his face.
She put her mirror back in her...