Maybe, Next
She held tighter on the steering wheel. Her vision was blurry by her thoughts. It was past dawn, but the sun was nowhere to be found. Her stereo was blasting the sound from her phone. Don’t look at me like that Just like you understand Don’t try to pull me back
Being rational was not an option for her clouded mind with inept sleep. An hour: she has not decided if it was considered as anything near to sleep or nap. Her foot stepped on the gad paddle - increasing her speed of 100 to a limit of 50kph.
The red sedan was almost the sharp curb by the runabout. The road was not ideal as the weather was unpredictable this week. She was still thinking it was the most plausible way to make it look like an accident. Yet, she turned the wheel and made it way out of the runabout. The road became darker with no streetlights alongside. She held on the wheel tighter, taking her breathes deeply. She escaped her own planned death.
Realizing what she had thought, she released her hand and looked at her pale palms. Her eyes averted quickly. She can see the air crafts, the big lights and her job’s building.
Maybe, next time, she told herself.