Still no lights. I swerve back into one lane. More seconds pass. My car eases back across the lane divider. I keep staring.
More seconds pass.
I'm still staring in the mirror, burning the image of his 4 headlights into my retina like the login prompt on a monochrome terminal in 1985. I glance forward when I sense I'm no longer successfully following the road, but I can barely see the lane markers through the afterimage of the headlights of the car behind me. Finally, the car turns onto a side street. I look away from the mirror. I still can't see anything.