Ficly

Tight Grip

The rain fell hard and fast, a solid curtain which the car sliced through. Bright lights everywhere pierced the gloom. Headlights and tail lights of the other vehicles, traffic lights and street lights, lighted store signs: their brightness shone through the rain and reflected off the raindrops, making it all but impossible to see the slick road in the dark.

The sound of rain pounding on the roof of the car faded into the background of attention but was impossible to ignore. The radio could possibly have drowned it out, but that would distract from the effort of driving in its own way.

The tires slipped, and the car lurched to the side briefly, but luckily the next lane over was empty. The next traffic light up ahead changed from green to yellow and then to red more quickly than it should have. The car cruised through the red light before there was a chance to apply the brakes.

The man behind the wheel took a deep breath and sighed quietly, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

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