Do the Time

         Brakes squealed and screeched. Engines rumbled. Exhausts belched. Horns swelled into a raucous cacophony, some beeping, some booming, all blaring non-stop. Shouts floated in the air joined and intertwined with sharp expletives.

         In his tiny bright blue Mini ,Jim clasped the toy-like steering wheel resting his left food heavily on the brake. He noted the clear azure sky and the total absence of clouds. What a marvelous day to be alive and driving. I guess the wipers won't get a workout today. Maybe I should visit a car wash. I wonder what's for lunch at the diner?

         He nodded his head in time to the insistent beat emanating from the radio and every so often he hummed a few notes. When he liked a particular instrumental solo his own fingers drummed. He glanced into the rear view mirror and admired his new pair of eye glasses. His gaze did not take in the scowl of the driver directly behind him. This also meant he did not notice the rude gesture directed his way.

         Should I steer over to the park? There could be something going on at the nearby mall. Do I need anything from the grocery store?The traffic light beamed to green and still Jim did not react in any haste. First, he checked the mirrors and then the intersection spread before him. A couple of kids loitered on a corner, but surely they would obey the red light. When he'd satisfied himself the coast was indeed clear to proceed, he did just that. He did not stomp on the accelerator. He prided himself on his conservative driving skills. After all, he'd been taught slow and steady wins the race, not that he would ever dream of street racing. Gran had always said it was better to be ten minutes late in this world than ten minutes early in the next. He had all the time in this world. He was retired.

         Jim put-putted along. Once in a while he returned a wave. If so much as a leaf dared to tumble across his trajectory he braked. Not a shuddering stop, but a deliberate, controlled and calculated stop. At corners, he remembered to engage his signal light well in advance. After all he believed in telegraphing his intentions to other drivers. Better safe than sorry was his motto. Where did people hurry to anyway?

         I think I'll cruise down the main street one more time. Whoa, that kid is lucky I saw him streak between the parked vehicles. What if I'd been preoccupied with one of those cell phone thingies? He should thank my superior reflexes oh, and the fact I am in no particular hurry.

         Noting the rattling garbage truck a few car lengths away, Jim decided to give it a wide berth. No need to ride up on its grimy bumper. Another light blipped to red and he eased to a smooth stop.

         He startled with the loud knock on his window. Frowning, he lowered the glass a few inches. It was a smart move. The rather immense and red-faced man pointed a pudgy finger in the vicinity of Jim's gaping face.

         "What's your problem anyway? Did you happen to notice the speed limit signs? I don't know about you, but I don't have all day to be lollygagging about blocking traffic. And why are your hazard lights on?"

         In response, Jim pushed the tiny button and his window rose. He pursed his lips and stared straight ahead.

         Well, he'd never. If that wasn't the height of rudeness. Jim liked driving around with his hazard lights on. He could never be too cautious. (607 words) (Newsletter Clippings Prompt 34 AND Mirror, Mirror Prompt 13)