Amanda sped home, navigating the treacherous “Spaghetti Bowl” freeway snarl with some deft maneuvering, glorying in her knowledge of avoiding the worst of rush hour. As her modern machine hummed beneath her, she felt a rush of pleasure at it’s tactile responses and humming potential power. She understood at times like this why race car drivers loved their sport. Nearing her branch turnoff, she careened powerfully down the ramp and onto her home stretch.
An attractive woman, Amanda prided herself on various things, among which was a sense of organization. She managed a sedentary job well, going to workouts on her lunch hour, then returning, refreshed and showered to her computer and the massive spreadsheets she consulted as a risk analyst for a large international construction firm. The job was interesting enough and she got to travel to far flung places to oversee project changes. Life was good.
She pulled onto her street and noticed Doris’s car out front. Her heart beat a bit faster as she had a vision of their evening out last night. It was the most incredibe night she had ever had. Simply breathtakingly different as well. She pulled the emergency brake and got out, toting her huge purse and the wine she had gotten at the liquor store near work.
