Making Up Lost Time

Sun, 27 May 2012 00:00:00 +0000

“Shit.”

“What?”

Rob pointed at glowing the sign.

ACCIDENT EXIT 28 ALL LANES BLOCKED

“Probably the fog. Can’t see for shit.”

Rob checked his mirrors, down shifted, and rolled off the interstate.

“Where are we going?”

“A long cut. It’s further, but it’ll get us home sooner than if we stayed on the highway.”

They drove along for several minutes in silence. The fog grew thicker. Rob downshifted. He slid his hand over to Sally’s knee, under her skirt.

Gold-Digger on Gromet's Plaza Archive