Fiction under 250 words.
“God help me,” I muttered under my breath. I was behind “Eeyore” mom and we were traveling at a maximum of 20 miles per hour.
I glared at the navy blue Chevy Tahoe and tried to keep my cool in front of the boys. I didn’t know this woman, but I hated her. She was the slowest driver in the entire city and I was always the lucky dipstick that got stuck behind her.
The boys began squirming in their seats. They knew whenever we got behind the truck with the Eeyore decal that there would be trouble. We were slowing down (which only required a tap or two on the brakes considering we were moving at a snail’s pace) at a stoplight.
We were in the left-hand turn lane and there wasn’t a car to be seen for miles. The light was green and yet we continued to sit there.
I could feel a hot bubble of impatience making it’s way up my throat. I gritted my teeth and tried hard to keep my cool. Only, I couldn’t. A force, bigger than myself, took over and I gripped the steering wheel so hard I heard a knuckle crack.
I glared at the woman hoping she would catch my death-ray look in her rear-view mirror and get the hint.
No such luck.
We continued to sit through the green light. I tensed and before I could stop myself, I called her an ugly name. We were all disappointed.