The tailgater

fictional writing

moon

Fiction Writing

Sample 1 from me

Michael couldn’t take it anymore.

He had been lying in his bed, peering through the darkness at the flag on his ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t breathe.

Or at least he felt like he couldn’t. He couldn’t stay here. Not like this.

He didn’t know where he wanted to go, but he knew he had to go.

He rolled out of bed and put some jeans on. He put a t shirt on under a big pullover hoodie.

He crept out of his room and down the hall. Michael didn’t put his shoes on until he was at the front door. His mother had ears like a hawk, even when she was asleep. He thought that in itself was pretty amazing.

He grabbed the keys off the key rack and slid out the front door.

Walking through the darkness, he looked up at the moon. He thought the moon was looking at him. Michael couldn’t tell what he was thinking though. Was he disapproving of Michael? He couldn’t tell. The moon’s face was hard to read.

Just like Michaels dad.

As Michael climbed inside his mom’s car, a Honda Civic, he thought about how similar the Moon was to his Father. They were both distant, yet looming. Hard to read.

Compared to the moon, Michael was insignificant. Compared to Michael’s father, he was insignificant. He didn’t know how to talk to the moon, and Michael assumed the moon didn’t know how to talk to him, because it had never tried. The same with his father. Also, the Moon was dead.

Michael started the car, and pulled out into the street.

It was sprinkling out and when he pulled to a stop at an intersection, Michael was amazed at the beauty before him. The headlights of the cars, the red light, the green turn light, all mixed into one, like a Kaleidoscope through the rain and the windshield. The turn signals of the other cars blinked and flurried in front of his eyes.

Then the light turned green and Michael pulled off. He drove off, without much regard to the speed limit or lanes. Michael rocketed off, blasting through the streets. His problems seemed surprisingly far away when he was going 80 in a 30 zone.

Michael was kind of surprised though. He was going what, 50 above the limit, and there was still some guy freakin’ tailgating him.

Michael was more upset than angry though, who does that? They even kept honking their horn, their stereo blaring some weird music. It didn’t even sound like music to Michael. Some sort of electronica EDM music. All sorts of blares and noises.

Michael didn’t like it when people tailgated him, so he sped it. 85. 90. 95. 100. He careened around a corner, blasted through a red light, going as fast as he could. His heart pounding in his chest, flying away from all his problems.

And still, this guy was right on his tail. Michael thought there had to be something wrong with him.

Michael also thought the lights on top of his car looked ridiculous too.

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