Lena just plugged in the 12V adapter. The screen flickered to life. A robotic voice announced: “Welcome to TomTom. Calculating route. Please obey traffic laws.”

The road was a narrow, leaf-littered track that didn’t appear on any paper map Martin owned. The TomTom’s 1GB memory, optimized for highways and city centers, had simply… deleted this place. To the device, the Ardennes forest was a blank beige void.

Just as the fuel light came on, they crested a hill. Below them, a village slumbered. And the TomTom gasped back to life.

“It is,” Martin replied, pocketing the chip. “A poem about what we lose when we make the world small enough to hold.”

“In… in 800 meters… turn… recalculating… turn left onto… road… unknown.”