Left Hand Turn

"You used a signal light," he grumbles, his words diffusing as wisps into the winter air.

"Yes." Stands aside him, hands on her hips with pride. She finally remembered the indicator.

"I—You—" his sentence ebbs and flows until he yanks out his mobile phone, then reads the confusion on her face. "We're going back to base, this was a horrible idea."

"What?" She squawks, waving her hands around to garner his attention as he requests a pick up. "Why? I did splendidly."

"You used a right turn signal."

"Yes?"

"And then turned left."

"Tau'ri directions are so—"

"And crashed my car."

"It's really just a little crunched."

"Into a stationary telephone pole."

"Well, if you want to play with semantics, then yes, that's exactly what happened." He lets out a groan as he examines the front of his slightly smoking car, resting on his knees and pressing his fingers into a leaky tire. "However, you cannot deny, I'm improving."