3.15.2012

75 of 365

The radio had played static for the last thirty miles, but at this point, any noise was better than no noise. Ever so often the lines on the road would blur. He would briefly squeeze his eyes together as tightly as possible and then slap himself across the cheek. This bought him another five or so minutes. He could not afford another late delivery. Then the engine sputtered and one of his tires exploded in a deafening blow beneath his seat.

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