Short Little Stories

So I’m driving down the highway and, as is my usual wont, I’m listening to music. There is a song playing, something about being seventeen and living on crazy dreams. It’s a catchy tune, I’m enjoying it, but eventually the song ends, as songs are prone to do.

Another song pops up, and I notice it also throws around the word seventeen. Huh – little bit odd, there, but nothing to really give me thought. The song ends, the DJs start talking, and that’s my cue to switch to another channel. I find one, just as one song is wrapping up, and another beginning…

…and you guessed it, the song is all about the number seventeen. Ok. I’m starting to get a bit wierded out here. Is this some sort of message? I switch to another station where people are talking – I can handle talk radio for a few moments, at the very least.

And then one of them starts talking about her kid, who is – yep – seventeen.

I’m almost at my exit as I turn the radio off and prepare to put this strange sequence behind me, when I notice that my exit – which I take everyday on the way to work, but have never bothered actually noting the number before – is Exit Seventeen.

Oh, I think to myself, as I leave the highway behind, they were just making sure I didn’t forget my exit. That’s nice.