“Now you drive this car nicely ok? And watch the breaks because they are quite stiff.”
“Are you some fucking nut job?”
“Nut job? No…I just like watching others drive me around. You are going to drive me the rest of the way to Vegas, and no funny stuff yes? Because I wouldn’t want to piss me off. I can count the capillaries under your skin if you’d like. Understood?”
“And after we get there? What happens to me?”
“Nothing. You drive, do your duty for me, and it ends.”
A hesitant approval synchronized with the click of a lighter and the smoke escapes between her lips.
“What do you think of this country?”
“What do I think of this country? I think its full of whacks like yourself miss.”
“Maybe you aren’t as dumb as I thought.”
“How so?”
“You seem to be realistic at least.”
“And what if I am like this because of all the other “normal” people here? What if the sheer pressure of society bearing on me to be normal has subsided me into being completely “whack” as you describe it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Indeed, you would not.”
She checks her watch, been a while since she last slept, but the three coffees and vodka did its duties, about 40 minutes away she decides to read the newspaper, perhaps a place where she will go unnoticed will do for now.
The color of her hair will also need to be rendered to a light blonde perhaps, to change the general appearance and disguise the identity.
She turns her head towards him, his behavioral signs do not tell of anxiety, fear, or any of these expected signs.
The light of the moon hits his lips, showing a profile she just now admires.
She bites her bottom lip.
Lust?
Desire?
Maybe she will not discard him as quickly as she thought.
Just maybe.
