Summer's Point of View
We were speeding in his Mercedes Benz, travelling in the fast lane. Since he hadn’t brought his driver along, he ended up driving and I sat in the passenger seat. He had his nose to the grindstone on the road while I had my eyes glued to his face. The crackling radio emitted nostalgic tunes, filling the thick silence as the nightfall draped us in its pitch-black cloak.
He had caught on to my long-term gawking and gave me a piece of his mind. “Speak your mind instead of giving someone a cold. I’m not a mind reader or have a crystal ball to magically know what’s going on inside your head.”
I shook my head and refocused my gaze on the road ahead. I didn’t want to stare at him like some obsessed wife, but the information he was revealing was more confusing than helpfu
