The big older Pontiac sped along eating up mile upon mile of highway. The driver slouched indolently behind the wheel, his left elbow resting comfortably on the car window fingers steadying the wheel but not gripping it, tapping in time to the classic rock on the radio. His right hand gripped the wheel at almost the top, but even that grip was relaxed, almost lazy. His rich hazel eyes were hidden behind aviator style sunglasses. He had a strong chin with a neatly trimmed goatee which matched his equally neatly trimmed short black hair.
Stephen Pierce
bunion San Antonio