It's All a Rage

The tractor trailer sped up on its' approach to the highway, all the while I was trying to figure a way around it to improve my visability. All I could see was the shiny end and it was going to make for a long ride home in the dark. With little warning a sign appeared alerting me that I needed to travel to the right immediately or I would be traveling south when home was north. It required quick action. I glanced in my mirror, saw no one and began moving into the right lane,  however the blare of a horn and the streak of a blue car let me know I was amiss. Shaken, with my eyes still on the road I said, "I didn't see that car coming."

"Every car has a blind spot," my husband replied. Still I felt responsible for the near miss. Thank goodness it was a miss. I followed the car I almost hit still wondering what happened when the driver slammed on their brakes. The sudden breaking to avoid sitting in his or her backseat lurched us forward then backward-whiplash style. We heard and felt the contents of the car (luggage and Trader Joe's food) shift all in one thrust and back again.

My car stood still on that ramp-stopped. It felt like forever. The car ahead pulled ahead creating distance between us. I noted we were the only two vehicles on the ramp. "He did that on purpose, didn't he?" I asked in disbelief. 

I watched the blue car with the vanity plate BUTIFUL drive north; the distance between us growing. The whole world is mad. Rage is for real.