Phil Penne Creations

#2 - The Car

 

        You merge into traffic from the on-ramp just as news of the crash crackles over the radio. Five cars… eight cars… a Greyhound bus… a cement truck. Traffic begins to slow to a crawl. Emergency vehicles race by in the breakdown lane and news helicopters swarm to the scene like so many vultures in search of carrion.

        Half a mile from the on-ramp traffic grinds to a halt. Seconds become minutes, and minutes evaporate into hours. To pass the time, you study the occupants of other vehicles: the businessman, alternately beating his fists on the steering wheel of his Cadillac and screaming into his cell phone; the mother in the powder blue Chevy with the mismatched fender, reaching frantically over the back of her seat, blindly swatting at the children who have been tormenting her for far too long; the truck driver with the naked woman mud flaps, leering down from his castle at the tube-topped blonde in the Mercedes convertible. There’s even the woman in the minivan with the hoop earrings and ugly pink sunglasses who’s staring back at you – she’s obviously bored too, passing time in the same manner...

 

 

Sitting tied up in a traffic jam has got to be the most boring thing in the world, right?

Not today.

No traffic jam has ever been like this.