Driving gives me plenty of time to think. You could say my life passes before my eyes. I've carried so much anger for so long that I don't even know what to do to stop it other than kill Frank. What then? I keep asking myself as my car eats up the miles between me and revenge. I stay on the road for twelve hours before pulling into a cheap but clean hotel and calling it a night. Now I'm lying in bed and asking the same question.
My room is on the bottom floor and loud, stomping footsteps ring overhead every ten minutes or so and I can't sleep. I should be exhausted. I'll be in Peach City the day after tomorrow. I could have done the seventeen hundred miles in two days, but I want to be at my best when I confront the man who's caused so much heartache in my life. I'll stay the night in wes
