At the turnoff for the mountain, under a sky like a bruise, a truck grinds onto the junction ahead of me, two dozen wheels slogging the thing off the highway.
Swerving into the hard shoulder, I undertake, sweeping between truck and barrier like a limbo dancer on acid. A horn blares, dopplering away behind me as, crossing one arm over the other on the wheel, I take the corner at a swing, then hit the gas again.
Another turnoff, and I’m climbing the switchback corners of the mountain road.
*****
