Ficlets

Traffic Stop

I wonder if my tires are up to this, he thought. How much gas do I have? What was that rattle I heard the other day? Oh God! He’s coming!

Out of the driver’s side mirror, Paul could see the trooper walking up to his door. The flashlight swinging on his belt. His right hand resting on his sidearm.

Gotta go! I can’t let him see! Paul’s mind raced. Back to the mirror. The cruiser was parked at that defensive angle on the shoulder behind his Cadillac.

Dammit. Paul jammed the shifter into Drive and slammed the gas pedal to the ground, leaving a cloud of smoke and dirt lingering behind him.

Dammit.

The cop was hustling back to his car, now distant in his rear-view. Watch for the choppers. Paul’s mind screamed Watch for the choppers. Carpool lane. How far to the state line?

I can’t let them find it. Gotta get rid of this car. Maybe the lake….yeah…I’ll try to make the lake.

The El Dorado weaved traffic at terrible speed, rocking the body in the trunk back and forth.

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