You used to drive too fast, metal to the floor, you thought it was clever to use so much power behind the wheel. Always pushing the red line, celebrating your next tactical manoeuvre amongst crowds of unsuspecting metal caskets by driving with your knees. Much as I enjoyed the thrill of speed clutching the edge of the passenger seat, I hated close range views of lorries undercarriages and constantly worried about unmarked cars.
When you left I didn’t understand, you voiced no reason, chicken-hearted you just took off at speed. I hoped that you would meet your match out on the highway that evening. I prayed for you to be written off, I had been your underwriter for too long, but men like you always get away with it, to begin with.
Delighting in writing for challenges again after a long NaNoWriMo break in November! Find other FSF here >