I locked the house and turned the key in the ignition.

The engine turned over and I pulled out of the driveway.

We passed the corner station on Elm Street.

The bright digital sign advertised gas for three dollars and ninety cents a gallon.

I kept my eyes on the road.

The turn signal ticked a steady rhythm against the silence in the car.

Lily didn’t make a single sound from the back seat.

The Oak Creek urgent care clinic sat quiet at three in the afternoon.