“Want to come for a drive, son?” Paul entered the security code: the car hummed into life.
“But Dad! Brad’s coming over to play, remember? You said it was okay.”
“Darn, so I did. Then I can’t go either; I’ll have to send the car on its own.” He spoke to the audio pickup. “Destination: 3427 Pacific Road. No passengers.”
“Is that the mechanic’s, Dad?”
Tires squealed; the car sprang out of the driveway. Paul turned, only to see it vanish in the wrong direction.
“You know we don’t use that word when the car’s listening!” he said.
Author’s note: Self-driving cars. What could possibly go wrong?