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Author: Lindsay
last update Last Updated: 2024-09-25 07:16:57

I can hear the way Dad used to tease her whenever she was behind the wheel. He hated riding as a passenger when she drove since she drove so much slower than he did. “I have precious cargo onboard.” She’d wink at me in the mirror as she’d say it.

Mom would’ve been driving slower, especially if it was raining hard, though somehow she was moving fast enough to crush the front of the car on impact.

My hands start to tremble, and I can barely minimize my browser window. I can’t have it sitting right out in the open in case somebody walks past—even more I can’t sit and stare at the car any longer. It makes my head spin and my heart race as a cold sweat clings to the back of my neck.

Why would she be driving that fast in the rain? Cars used to fly past her on the highway—I recall hearing horns blaring so many times, where every so often, somebody would flip her the bird as they passed by. I learned a few filthy words during those car rides, mainly from the frustrated drivers as they passed.
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