Traffic Is Getting Worse

      The smell of gasoline filled his lungs as he sat in traffic on the ten. There was a brief moment when he considered shifting into neutral and cutting the motor so he could climb down and step off the highway for a breath of fresh air. The honking behind was no match anymore for his throbbing left leg so he did throw it in neutral and relaxed long enough to let the 14 passenger van merge. When their racket finally compelled him to lean back on the clutch and fill the gap he'd brought the line forward by six feet.

The next thing he could remember was walking down a broken sidewalk in the quaint downtown Riverside in search of a record store. A beautiful woman walked a skinny rat dog in his direction and he asked her if he could buy the animal.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"How much do you want for the dog?"

She scooped the ragged mutt into her arms and he could see their hairs stand up unattractively backlit in the sun. It was important for him to recognize ugliness in something beautiful. This restrained his predatory desires.

"I don't have cash though."

"I can't sell Rascal." she cooed.

He reached forward slowly to take the dog and she responded by carefully placing it in his hands.

"Do you know a place that will take a card?" he said.

They walked toward the main strip and passed an old fountain that had long since dried up. He asked her about the town and if they were having an election any time soon. She seemed to be foolishly entertained by his non-sequitur line of questioning and what woman wouldn't be  intrigued by the mystery of a man who withheld any personal details?

"Do you live around here?" she asked as they passed a modern fountain full of water and stamped from a factory mold.

"I've been thinking about moving here." he said.

He sat down with the dog on the edge of the fountain and playfully held it over the water.

"He could use a bath." he said.

She reached for the bony animal and he brought it back from the edge as she laughed so naively it almost broke his heart.

Then it was morning and he could hear her in the shower. He could never relate to the characters in movies who had the discipline to wake before their partner and sneak out without them noticing so this was the alternative. He climbed down steps forgotten in the drunken daze of the previous night and found his way for the first time to the building's exit. Rascal didn't say a word the whole time and it wasn't until they climbed on the bus that he began to bark.

He didn't know where it was going but at this point was more curious how long it would take his actions to yield some consequence. He couldn't bear to do any real cruelty or truly criminal mischief but he had no intention of returning the fleabag or claiming his abandoned vehicle.