Ok, this is my story:
When I was pregnant with Harry I realized it was time for me to go for a driver´s licence. Me and Jakob were looking for a house, far away from bus line no 2 and I just had to grasp the nettle. During this time we rented a summer flat in Mörtfors, and close to here you could register for an intensive driver education. So for two weeks I perspired my way through the streets of Högsby and Oskarshamn, driving the dazzlingly white car of my driving school teacher Gunder. It was me and Kerstin, and we stayed in a row house in Högsby during this time. We were the only students of the driving school. I had nightmares every night. Woke up streaming with sweat after horrible dreams of me running over children, animals, old people... Miraculously I managed the driving test. Think the driving inspector felt sorry for me when I got stuck behind the steering wheel with my huge belly and didn´t manage to get out of the car.

Now I have had my licence for six years, I drive our Volvo almost every day and I still sometimes have those nighmares. But the best days I sense this wonderful feeling of being a kentaur; half woman, haft car. We are a perfect harmony. The roads are empty, the weather is fine. Not a sound from the carburettor. Other days (and they are sadly a bit more frequent) driving the car feels like wearing a very, very uncomfortable suit. Ugly, made by metal and with a bad smell of rotten bananas.