Gemotions

The radio blared an upbeat tune, a grating counterpoint to the turmoil churning inside Sarah. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. The traffic, naturally, was crawling.

She drummed her fingers on the dashboard, the rhythmic tapping a frantic counterpoint to the music. Every red light felt like an eternity. She glanced at the rearview mirror, checking for any possibility of overtaking.

She leaned forward, willing the car to move faster, willing time itself to speed up. The restaurant was only a few blocks away, but it might as well have been on the moon.