Road games

I roll down the road five miles over the speed limit, feeling like a rock in a swift moving stream, cars and trucks whooshing by on both sides every time I venture into the middle lane. I ignore them and indulge in a “Prius moment”, watching the gas mileage on little red improve with each passing mile. I skip through the shuffle on my ipod playing only songs that match my free wheeling mood. It is some time before I realize that the tractor-trailer on my right isn’t trying to pass me. For the last 40 miles he has been my constant companion, passing me at times from behind to get around a slow moving car, and moving back to my right as quickly as possible. The light dawns, and like Eve in the garden, I glance down at my two layer flowing black skirt, the under panel up to mid thigh and the sheer black over skirt lying in waves across my bare legs. I make no sudden moves. I pretend I am still unaware of his attention, but I smile to myself and think, hell, let him look. I keep the cruise set and stay in the middle lane, now self-conscious every time I need to move. After about 20 minutes of this I realize my exit is approaching. I slow down and slide behind the truck, and just as he is too far gone to turn off, I slip off the road and head for home. Somewhere on the way south a redneck misses my legs for at least 15 minutes.