“You’ll want to be in third gear here, Emma” I advise over the increasingly loud protestations of the engine.
“Sorry!” you say, depressing the clutch and shifting up a gear.
You’ve been taking weekly lessons with me for a month now, in anticipation of your upcoming driving test. You’ve generally been pretty good in your lessons, but this week, you’re missing gear changes, drifting in the lane, and generally making a mess of things.
“Watch out for the…” I shout, just before there’s a terrible noise of grinding metal. “…the curb.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry!” you exclaim, sounding as if you’re nearing tears.
“It’s alright, you just scraped the wheel a little. Why don’t you pull over and stop.” I say, reassuringly.
You pull over, put the gearshift into neutral and apply the handbrake. As the engine is idling, you slump in the driver’s seat.
“What’s the trouble, Emma? You’re usually better than this. Is everything alright?” I inquire.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Edwards. It’s…it’s just that I broke up with my boyfriend last week. I’m having trouble thinking straight.” you say, sounding as if you’re nearing your breaking point.