He supposed he should be concerned that the windshield wipers were unable to keep up with the deluge, that the view ahead was nothing but a water-streaked gray mist. But he wasn't. He supposed he should ease off on the gas. But he didn't. Instead he pushed the gas pedal closer to the floor.
He savored the adrenaline rush that came with knowing his life might end at any moment. It was a welcome change to the blur that his daily life had become.
The windshield wipers thunked at every end of their racing swing like metronomes counting off a hundred beats per minute. The beat of his heart increased to match the thunk of the wipers, the blood pumping muscle borrowing life from the future.
One of the car tires hit a pothole and the car went into a fishtail. He took his hands from the wheel and laughed aloud as the car went into a full swing. This! This was living!
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