Sunset Road

cvr_12_1398365630

“Just pull over.”

“We’re already late.”

“Being late won’t matter much if you keep doing that while you’re driving, because we’ll be dead instead.”

“I can handle it.”

“I should hope so, as many times as you’ve done it before. But never driving into the sun on a two-lane road in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Pull over.”

“I can’t, dammit.”

“Oh, shit. It’s too late, isn’t it? Let me have the wheel! Damn! Move! I’ve got to get in the driver’s seat… OK, I’ve got it now. First place I see, I’m pulling over, no argument. You didn’t take your medication. I knew it! How do you expect us to get through a damned cocktail party if you don’t take your meds? Oh, never mind. Just be still… Stop wiggling! I see a spot up ahead on the right. You did bring your meds at least, didn’t you? I suppose I should be grateful for small miracles. Stop that! You can’t open the door and you know better than to even try before we’re completely stopped! Anyone would think you were raised in a— Oh. Right. Sorry. I’ll wait here while you… take care of things. I’ll have your meds ready before you get back. … Where did he put his kit? Dammit, why do I have to be the one to take care of this? Ah, under the seat. Should have guessed. Wouldn’t do to have this flop out while getting an insurance card or registration. … What is taking him so long? He was the one worried about being late, and— Ah, good, there you are. Hold still. Don’t be such a baby. It’s just an injection… Don’t get snippy with me. You’re the one that twitched. I’m sorry it hurt, but you should have taken care of this at home. Is it working yet? I don’t see— OK, there, I see it now.”

“Gimme the keys.”

“Are you sure? You’re shaky after sometimes.”

“Gimme the damned keys. And no more bitching about the meds.”

“You did not just say that. Tell me you did not just say that.”

“I said it. Buckle up.”

“There’s only one more dose in the kit. Will you be OK? And that’s not bitching. That’s a real question.”

“We’re going home.”

“I thought you wanted to go to this party at your boss’ house.”

“I can’t go now. Their house is just around the bend, and they’re gonna be very busy for a while.”

“Oh, god. I hear sirens. You— you did, didn’t you? Shit! You didn’t forget your meds, did you? You planned this! … Why are you grinning?”

“Most of the time, I hate being me. Tonight, not so much. There’s a great deal of satisfaction in being a werewolf if you get to eat your asshole boss.”

 

[Image credit: Morguefile.com]

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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