MicroHorror

I saw him coming in the mirror. Some young punk in his flashy new car that his parents most likely bought him. He was trying to look important.

I knew he wanted in front of me, so I sped up slightly. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was annoyed, so I sped up a little more.

He took the bait. He accelerated and quickly merged in front of me. He held his middle finger up through his sunroof. That was my cue.

I accelerated and gripped the steering wheel tightly. I held down the horn and flashed my headlights rapidly to intimidate him. It worked. He was easier than most.

He tried to accelerate, but I stayed on his tail. I was close enough to see through his rear view mirror that his confident young radiance faded into fear. Just another young punk trying to bully the older folks, I thought. Never again.

The large curve approached. The large curve that is notorious in these parts. I inched closer. He accelerated again.

I knew it was time to slow down, so I did. Unfortunately for him, he slowed too late. His car lost its traction and slid through the guardrail. They weren’t designed for retaining cars at that speed.

His car met a tree and nearly disintegrated. Some pieces flew over a hundred yards. It rolled down the hill and into the river. I drove past at the speed limit, smiling. Another job well done.

Then a few miles down the road, I saw some other young punk approaching. My service to the public never ends.