* * *
On a dark desert highway, a pale Lamborghini flew over the road. His tires barely seemed to skim the pavement, he drove so swift and maneuvered so sweetly. There was no one else on the road for miles and miles, and the wail of his engine filled the night.
His speakers purred out "Stray Cat Strut", the music making his headlights glitter with a little more than moonlight and his tires slide smooth as glass over the pavement. Sometimes it was good to be fast, to let off his brakes and press down his accelerator until the lines on the road just looked like dots.
It was so easy to get caught up in a waking dream, where hours flew past unnoticed and all that mattered was the road under his wheels. Dawn came as a surprise; he'd set out at dusk, and that wasn't so long ago...
Only ten hours, and he'd already crossed half the country.
He wasn't due back for another six hours. He could probably get to the East Coast by then if he hurried.