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Rated: GC · Chapter · Dark · #1589736
The signal was pushing him over the edge, but his quest to shut it down could kill him.
Chapter 1



         Here he goes again.  Snooze, the ultimate tool for procrastinators.  Hitting it repeatedly until the last second, and then rushing out the door to make work on time.  Still, pressed for time, Brandon slides through the drive-thru at Starbucks before hitting the interstate.  The creamy sweetness of the latte helps to take the edge off the unbearable traffic he deals with each day.

         He's forgotten something though.  His mind in it's usual morning fog waits for it's daily dose of caffeine before coming around completely.  He remembers now, and reaches over to his attache.  Fumbles the latch open and then rummages through the contents.  He finds the bottle of prozac and pulls it free.  His ears alert him to a problem, but it's not until he holds the empty prescription up to the light that he see's.  He forgot the refill.  He had picked it up last night, and left it sitting in his kitchen.  He tosses the bottle onto the floor in front of the passenger seat, “FUCK!”

         He stews over this for a few seconds before coaxing himself into a calmer state.  He focuses on his breathing, and attempts to relax.  He glances into the passenger side mirror and notices a car cruising up the shoulder with it's left turn signal on.  The rage begins to return.  He presses the accelerator to close the gap between his bumper and the truck in front of him.  The car on the should begins to slow as they come to another on ramp full of traffic trying to merge.  Sure enough the car begins to edge closer to his car, hoping to force himself into a gap that doesn't exist. 

         Brandon grips the wheel with white knuckled rage as the moron looks over at him and motions to the 3 feet of space he's trying to take over.  Brandon shakes his head in an exaggerated manner to let the other driver know he's not getting in.  The guy gets upset, lays on his horn, and swerves within inches of Brandon's car.  Brandon smirks, hammers on his horn, and then gives the other driver his best one finger salute.  The other driver turns to look at Brandon and returns the gesture.  He glares at Brandon as he does, and fails to notice he's come up on the ramp of drivers merging onto the interstate.  Crunch!  In a split second he's brought to a stop.

         Brandon watches it happen. “Oh shit!” he shouts.  He glances over his shoulder at the wreck, and then turns around to direct his attention forward.  He begins to laugh maniacally at the thought of what just happened.  He glances in his passenger side mirror to see it again before it's out of his sight for good.  An expression of joy comes over him as he relaxes into the seat.

         He reaches down to turn the radio up, remembering that he had turned it down when he'd went through the Starbucks drive-thru.  The familiar sounds of NPR Morning Edition fills the car.  A small hit of static hissing in the background.  As the car travels forward towards town though the static begins to become more prominent.  His brow furrows at the minor nuisance.  He glances down at the display to make sure it's on the correct setting.  The static begins to battle with the broadcast.

         He looks down the road to see if there might be some reason for this disturbance.  He sees the sign for the arena just off the overpass, but nothing out of the usual grabs his attention.  By the time he reaches the sign though, the static has began to subside.  He looks around again, glancing at the other cars thinking one of them might have some sort of radio device interfering with the signal.  Still he sees nothing.  The static fades, and the problem fades just as quickly from his thoughts.
© Copyright 2009 Jeromie Hartsough (jdhartsough at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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