road rage
...expressway reflected off of Bob’s eyes. He was discouraged. All of the obstacles that he dangerously maneuvered around was done in vain. The yellow lights he dodged trying to get closer to home - all for nothing. He was trapped. He couldn’t go forward or back. He couldn’t get into the left lane; not that it mattered because no one drove beyond 5 miles per hour. He would sit and wait. The thought of driving on the shoulder occurred to Bob, but he knew that was wrong. Besides he’d probably get caught. He just waited, hoping for a break. Occasionally a car would fly by him, illegally driving on the shoulder. Inevitably other idiots followed. Bob felt tense watching cars go by while he waited; doing the right thing. His fists clenched and his teeth began to grind. The red glow now came from inside Bob’s eyes. He couldn’t help the desire to move part of his car into the shoulder trying to put an end to the madness. He looked into the rear view mirror victoriously. As always there was that one guy who would squeeze through. Bob was fuming. It was that single digit gesture that came from the rat who just passed by that sent Bob’s car sailing to the shoulder. In a flash there was jolt. For a brief moment the air stood still once again. Bob exited his vehicle and found himself covered in red. His nose was broken. There were lights and s...