Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I look in the rear-view mirror. In the cockpit of the car behind me, a blonde lady sits, one hand holding her cellphone to her ear. The other hand is draped lazily over the steering wheel as she punctuates her conversation with gestures. Slowly, car-length by car-length, the traffic moves forward. I know from experience the traffic will clear significantly once I reach the off-ramp for the tolled freeway, but until then, I'm nervous. I'm not going very fast, but I worry the lady behind me will be too caught up in conversation to notice traffic ahead of her has stopped. Every half-minute or so I'm able to creep forward. The lady on the cellphone creeps forward behind me and stops. Every half-minute I worry that she's not paying enough attention.
Car-length by car-length, traffic moves forward. I pass an on-ramp for another city street, and I smile. The next ramp will be the toll route. Behind me, the lady on the cell phone moves into the left lane, and I'm relieved. It isn't long before a car in the entering lane takes the lady's place behind me. It's a sedan, in black. I look in the rear-view mirror. In the cockpit of the car behind me, a blonde lady sits, one hand holding her cellphone to her ear.