Reactionary Tales

I’m not a writer, I’m a reader: Day 8

Dear person driving in front of me,

I get it. I do. We both have places to be. I’m trying to go to work and you’re trying to go wherever. That doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is how often you are hitting your brakes. I just don’t understand. I can see the road ahead of you for miles. What are you braking for??? You have to understand. I drive manual transmission and I have to shift gears to accommodate your unbelievable driving skills. I promise it’s driving me crazy.

You know what? It’s okay. There are two lanes now. I’ll just get over in this lane and go around you. See my turn signal? I’m just going to ease to the right in the passing lane since you’re​ riding the fast lane.

What are you doing? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! You’re swerving into my lane. Fantastic. You know my car was trying to tell your car something, right? I guess your turn signal is broken. That’s fine. I’ll just slam on my brakes just for you. Asshole. You don’t know it but right now I’m wishing I was Cyclops and could shoot laser fire out of my eyes and blow your car out of my way.

I just want to get to work with minimal headache. If you could go the speed limit that would be amazing. No? Not something you’re interested in? That’s fine. There’s an exit coming up. I’ll take a different route.

Of course you’re going this way too. I can’t get away from you! What are the fucking odds?

Oh! Your turn signal does work! Thank God. Hurry up and turn so I can continue my drive.

Yes! I’m free!!! The road is open! No one in front of me! I’ll be on time!

No! Don’t do it! Don’t you fucking turn in front of me! Fuck! Here we go again…

Sincerely,

The driver behind you having road rage inside her car

(Day 8’s email. Write a letter)

Nel

Happily married, bookaholic, Netflix-a-holic sharing random experiences and interpretations of my world which is brutally honest most of the time.

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