The Dangers of Texting and Driving

Trieme wasn’t the kind of place you went to for anything.  It was more like a town you pass through on your way to somewhere else.  Trieme was large enough to provide the conveniences of a big city, yet small enough to have the streets empty at night.

Victor was driving his shiny, black Mercedes rental through Trieme, when his phone alerted him to a new text message.  He picked up the phone to read the new message and saw right away it was from Angela, his fiancée.  He couldn’t figure out why she would be texting him so late at night, especially when she knew he was out of town on a business trip.  The message was loud and blunt: WHO THE FUCK IS SHE?

He quickly typed back, She who?

The SLUT you’re cheating on me with!

What are you talking about, he texted back.

Is she your assistant or one of your “clients”?

What the hell, how does she know?  I made sure to cover my tracks, Victor thought to himself.

He thought for a minute, but nothing was coming to mind of what she could have found to prompt this.  Another chime came from his phone alerting him of another message.

The picture of you and Tonya, your new “connection” on Facebook, is quite clear.

Victor’s face went pale as he realized Angela had been snooping around online.  He accessed his profile and saw the picture Angela had mentioned.  As he tried to come up with an explanation for the photo, he caught a glimpse of something in his peripheral vision.  He looked up just it time to see a man staggering across the street.

Victor tried to slam on the brakes, but there wasn’t enough time.  The pedestrian was tossed into the windshield of the Mercedes and quickly rolled overtop the car, landing in the street behind it.

Having come to a screeching halt a few yards away, Victor sat in the car seized with anxiety, his knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

He checked the rearview mirror, but didn’t see any movement.  He looked around to see if there was anyone else around, but the poorly lit intersection made it difficult.  He debated whether he should get out and try to help the man, or just continue driving like nothing happened.

Grabbing his phone from the floorboard, he called Angela.  After the third time, she finally picked up.  “Angela, I know we have issues to work out, but not now!  Some guy just walked out in front of the car and I hit him,” the panic noticeable in Victor’s voice. 

“Way to go Jackass.  Serves you right, I hope you rot in jail for it,” was all he heard before she hung up on him.

He stepped on the gas pedal, sped away, and drove a few miles before stopping again.  He grabbed his phone again and dialed 911, giving an anonymous tip of what happened.  Then he continued driving.