Trucker Fucker
It was twilight. Spanner had been driving all day with only coffee and sandwiches to eat. He was used to driving for hours on end, his Mack truck loaded up with cargo that always needed to be there “within 48 hours” regardless of where he was travelling. It was a big country and he’d seen most of it, but the long hauls never got any easier.
He scratched his chest and kept his eyes on the road. The Dixie Chicks were blasting from the speakers in his cabin. He wasn’t much into country music; he was more of a rock man—AC/DC, Metallica, that sort of thing. That was the music he’d grown up on.
Pretty much everything about him was a result of his past. He rarely shaved, though he kept his beard and moustache trimmed. He either wore blue workman’s singlets or flannel shirts, den
