Death Wish on Acid

Kyle rode in the backseat becoming increasingly disoriented. But he snapped to when Troy took a clover leaf curve too fast and came within four inches of the concrete barrier that separated them from the French Broad River flowing silently below in the darkness.

“It’s all good!” Troy yelled as he worked the wheel, his hands crisscrossed as the tires screamed before he righted the small white car and they all laughed.

“Holy shit,” Norah said. “I need a cigarette.” She smoked for a minute and then asked Troy if he would stop at the grocery store.

“Will you run in for us, Kyle?” she said. Still buzzed from the hairpin curve he thought it would be a good decision to get out of the car for a minute. Troy handed him ten dollars and said to get a couple of cheap pizzas and a Coke and maybe a pastry for in the morning.