Moving from the right lane, behind a semi with its hazards on, and dodging in front of a Passat that was going just a touch too slowly, Saira killed the air conditioning so that the tiny V6 under the hood of her ancient (but still very functional) Jeep would keep the (now honking) Passat from rear-ending her. The moment the air conditioning stopped blasting (rather icy) air out the vents, the Jeep lurched forward, finally inching past 55, past 60, settling on the notch indicating 65.
It got stuffy without the constant buzz of the A/C, and Saira was grateful that her Jeep, while almost older than she was, was young enough to have power windows. She pressed the window buttons while swerving around a Camry that was actually doing the speed limit, and cursed quietly under her breath as the wind whipped her hair dramatically around her face, obscuring her view of the road. She uselessly tried to flip her hair behind her before giving up, and took a moment to drive with her knees while she fiddled with an elastic, pulling her black hair out of her eyes. Her hands come back to the wheel just in time to veer back into the left lane, and around a cop who had pulled someone over. Probably for speeding.
The thought made Saira smile. The bass line of a song she liked struggled to be heard over the rush of the wind, and her sharp ears picked up the strains of the melody, and her smile widened as she cranked it up. The door was vibrating against her left leg as the mighty Jeep rattled from the volume.
The speedometer twitched it's way toward 70, clearly uncomfortable with the level of acceleration it was being subjected to. Another zig around a school bus and a zag around a slow-moving Lincoln Continental (people over the age of 80 should not be allowed to drive), and Saira and her trusty Jeep broke free of the traffic and surged forward onto the open road: asphalt humming under the tires; radio blaring; engine working quietly, efficiently, gloriously.
Saira burned past a stationary police cruiser, closing in on 90, unable to hear the sound of the sirens over the wind and the music.
nt - 6/18/10
Notes: Driving on the open road is one of the single best feelings in the world.
*Prompt taken from The Write Brain Workbook: 366 Exercises to Liberate Your Writing by Bonnie Neubauer