Traffic - Elizabeth Enriquez

This was the worst possible day for this to happen.

Looking up to the beige ceiling of her car, she sighed, letting go of the steering wheel for a second to stretch. If only there was some way to wring the nerves from her muscles.

She sometimes regretted scheduling her classes in the morning, save for the fact she would be home before the roadways got too crowded. Her daily commute was painfully early, but it was always nice to be welcomed by a clear freeway after class.

Unfortunately, today was different.

Her drive started as it always did - five miles above the speed limit, air conditioning failing to huff the hot air out of the car, the din of the radio blocking out the sounds of the road. At this point, the occasional sip from the lukewarm coffee left in her tumbler was the only thing keeping her consciousness intact. She looked down at the clock on her dashboard. 2:10 PM - right on schedule. At this rate, she would be at the interview exactly twenty minutes early to prepare herself.

Apart from a few cars sporadically strewn about the freeway, she was alone. Her car crept around a curve in the highway and she took the next exit. The exit joined another freeway seamlessly.

There were more cars than usual, she noted. She tapped her fingers on the back of her steering wheel; four quick taps in succession, over and over again. Surely, it was nothing, she assured herself. Everything would be fine.

However, her hope quickly proved false as she gradually slowed with the thickening crowd. She leaned forward in her seat as though it could propel her past the wall of cars, drawing a long breath of hot air into her lungs. As she glanced down at the clock, she watched 2:17 switch to 2:18. A wave of panic warmed her face. She swore under her breath.

The flow of cars refused to move. She watched 2:18 turn to 2:19 and then 2:20, the minutes falling like the grains of sand in an hourglass. The quiet drone of the radio announcer's cheerful voice quickly annoyed her, and she turned the radio off, leaving her head filled with only the car's hum and the metronomic drum of her own heartbeat in her ears. She rolled the window down, hoping to find cool air on the other side, only to be unsurprisingly disappointed by the wrath of the heatwave. 

The freeway was so busy, yet so still.

She slammed a fist down on the horn. Her car let out a shrill screech, long enough to make the people in the car next to her turn to stare at her, exchanging words from behind the glass of their windows. She shoved the gearshift into "park." The car lurched forward an inch as she took her foot off of the break. She dared another peek at the clock. It read 2:26. Her muscles tensed.

Tears blurred the collection of red tail lights into a single vermillion streak in her vision. She tilted her head back, refusing to let the water fall, refusing to let a few tears ruin her look. That was the last thing she wanted. Today, she had to look perfect, poised, put-together.

2:30. Her twenty-minute head start was long gone, and the traffic remained still and unmoving, without hope of progress any time soon.

She let out a shaky sigh, smiling in spite of herself.

This was the worst possible day for this to happen.