Start the Day With a Bang
The ginch in the banged up Mercury doesn't even look. He just pulls part way out of the side street. I swerve. We don't hit, but boy does he glare at me. The guy pulls out onto a street without looking and he glares at me. He glares at me.
I glare right back. I'm hoping it will escalate. A little justified violence will be a good way to start the morning. I watch as he pulls out behind me. He looks oh-so-angry. Maybe he's ticked because he wanted to hit me and missed. I want him to pull over, or indicate that I should ... because I will ... because I have this sudden thought. This is how I picture it go down. It would make for an interesting tale.
In my mind I see us pull over. He's out of the car quick. Shouting obscenities. Arms wildly out of control. I get out. I'm calm. I approach him. He goes to push me. I move in closer. I grab his face ... and I start biting it. Inhuman growls. Chomping at it. How the hell would a person react to getting eaten?
For the first time on this small hop to work, I have a smile on my face. I make it to the parking lot of work, crisis and cannibalism averted. King Automatic is on my stereo now. My smile has faded somewhat. I had spent a few hours before work editing a short story. Small consolation.
I shut the car off. Finish my morning texts. Make my way into the building. King takes Queen every time ...