Right-Turn Lanes

People in right-turn lanes seem to fall under a meditative trance when it's their opportunity to go.  Where they may have sped up, passed me, and jammed back in to get ahead, the approach of a right turn recalls all their mindfulness skills, and they travel each degree of the arc with steady, observant grace. During this exhibition of presence of mind, cars veer off wildly behind us to avoid a crash and I pray I'm not too badly disfigured.  Or perhaps they're mere sensualists, and a curve, even a concrete one stuck with a preoccupied teen and a trash can, begs a slow caress of the flank. Maybe they realize this last turn means Home Sweet Home, and any unhappy or begrudging association makes them to slow to a crawl to stave off the inevitable. All I know is that it scares me every time.