It is always the reflection of the morning sun that highlights the dead flies on the windscreen. There must be thousands of them, too numerous to count. It is always the same, day in day out. The same corner, the same time, the same fucking sunlight. He is a well sorted man. A man that has his life well under control. The way to work, a part of his routine. His car knows the way, literally. Apple car play was the right choice. One of the few right choices he did so far. His mother wouldn’t necessarily be proud, but yes she would. After all, he was still her son. Family is family.

Photo by Jonathan Petersson on Pexels.com

It’s just this one corner, can you believe it. After all those miles, just this one little bend? What a joke. But the timing has to be right. It’s down in the valley. The right bend after the bridge it is. The asphalt smooth but noisy, the tires sing their song. He is close. Too close. He is too early. How could that happen? What was he doing wrong?

Slowing down was not an option. Not today but also not on every other day. The moment had to be perfect, but luck was his preferred choice. He liked to be in control, but never actually was. Neither in bed, nor anywhere else in his life. Control wasn’t his thing, sadly or not. But it did not matter. He was too early. The sun not yet quite there right above the mountains in the background. Tomorrow would be another chance. Another day to try his luck…

See you next time!

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