Larry Andrews was used to people gawking at him whenever he drove. Whether it was his 2017 Audi R8, his Porsche 918 Spyder or, as was the case today, his Rolls Royce Ghost. But today they gawked far more than usual. Andrews could usually put it down to his superior wealth and the lavish lifestyle that came with it. He enjoyed basking in the knowledge that one or two fine-looking ladies would be checking him out. Today, though, Andrews was attracting unwanted attention as he swerved maniacally through every nook and cranny he spotted in New England's bustling traffic. Having reached Boston in record time, the Rolls Royce Ghost now growled vehemently in a relentless traffic jam of perversely cheap vehicles stretching for miles.
Cursing under his breath, Andrews stared at the platinum hands on his Rolex wrist watch; 4:36.
Goddamnit!
He looked around for as escape; any escape from this blockade. Spying a side road about a hundred metres ahead, he didn't even pause to assess the risks. Andrew sheaved the wheel to the right and edged out from behind the car in front; a crappy VW Polo whose licence plates may as well have been carved in stone. Mounting the curb, Andrews dropped the accelerator to the floor and pressed ahead.
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Not the Way God Intended
Historia CortaI penned this short story as a middle finger to any moron who believes 'guns don't kill people; people do' (that includes you, Mr President). Guns are lethal weapons and there are far too many liabilities in this world to be dishing out lethal weapo...
