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Weekly Contest #362
I can feel the cold air buffeting my face, the rough, grime-caked surface of the steering wheel sticking to my palms. My knuckles turn the same pale shade of white as my cheeks. My heavily caffeinated heart thrashes in its bony cage as if trying desperately to escape, and I fear it might. It's been four and a half hours on the road since I last stretched my legs, and I can count the number of fellow travelers I've passed on one hand, even if I were to lop off a finger or two. I entertain the thought for a moment. It entertains me. We enterta...
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