Permanent Pit Stop

Monica S

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A warm spring afternoon tempted me to go out. There isn’t any traffic in the early afternoon. The turnpike was a shopping cart in a parking lot White and yellow lanes with no one in them. I wasn’t in a rush but I had all this space. I kept my foot on the gas just a little bit longer Going through all green lights. My car rested in the garage all winter. I missed the linger of gasoline. My old Nisson was a Nascar Desiring more speed with every roar. The oncoming cars were yelling at me But weren’t they ever young before? Sirens started to scream in the distance. The police were a swarm of bees chasing after me I slammed my brakes Uneager for the consequences. The only ride I will be taking is to my room To find a way to pay fat fines Without leaving the house While everyone else drives Freely in the summer.