The glasses slid down my nose as I drove with the windows all the way up. The air conditioning was shot… and so were the small levers that powered the glass up or down. I was being roasted whole. I’d never make it to 7/11 in time. That was my dying wish—a slurpee. But the car wouldn’t go fast enough. It sputtered up the hill before stalling out in the middle of the intersection. I started moving back and forth thinking maybe, just maybe my momentum could get the clunker going again. A Jeep full of teenagers flew by and honked at my stopped Buick—they were all holding ice cold beverages… laughing and guzzling…I envied their brain freeze.
I had done something to anger the slurpee god’s and now they were mocking me.