He hasn’t even made it to the end of the street by the time Matilda already has her phone out. Without taking his eyes off the road, he can see she’s furiously typing something. Her fingers jab at the screen and then he hears the tiny sound designed to mimic something in real life.
She’s switched to a new app and his scrolling up on various images. All he can see out the corner of his eye are the abrasive colours polluting his daughter’s mind.
He carefully winds down his window. He is proud to still drive a car that has a mechanical window. And that it was built here in Australia and not some foreign place you can’t pronounce.
In one swift motion, he grabbed the phone and flicked it out his window.
What the fuck is all she said. Her words flew out the window with the phone. He could just hear the screen crack.
Matilda reached down for the handbrake and Peter felt the car shake beneath him. He released his foot from the pedal as he watched everything spin.
The car settled down as other cars swerved and blasted their horns.
Fuck, Matilda screamed.
She got out of the car and walked back towards where her phone was.