Flash

In spite of the late hour, Mike couldn’t sleep, excitement bubbled up in his chest. His wife slept beside him, oblivious to his feelings. How could he sleep knowing the object of his desire was downstairs? So close. He finally gave up the fight and went to have one last look at her, reassuring himself of her existence.

Opening the door, he looked appreciatively at her feminine curves, her sleek body. Stroking her, he was unable to disguise the emotions building up inside him, the pride at being seen out with her. Even Susan, his wife of over twenty years, had never had this effect on him.

She’d called it his mid-life crisis. Maybe it was. Spending all his redundancy money on a sports car wasn’t the most sensible thing he’d ever done, but he was confident of getting another job, so why shouldn’t he live out his fantasy?

He pressed the key fob, the two doors unlocked with a comforting clunk sound. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he breathed in the smell of the new leather. The sumptuous seats moulded themselves to him, embracing his body, sucking him into her. The computerised dashboard lit up, his hands, lovingly, caressed the steering wheel. The key in the ignition made the engine purr pleasurably.

Before he had time to think, he was reversing out of the garage. Just one last spin before he settled down for the night.

The dual carriageway stretched out in front of him. At this time of night there was no other traffic about. His right foot pressed down. The needle on the speedometer climbed effortlessly, 70, 75, 80, 85. Her tyres gobbled up the road, smoothly, gliding along.

Flash – the whole night sky lit up.

Shit!

A speed camera.

Three penalty points.

Looking at the speedometer, the needle was nearer to 90 than 80. He’d been driving for nearly thirty years, and had never had a blemish on his licence. Slowing down, the previous excitement, he’d felt, was now replaced with anger. Thirty years as a good, law abiding motorist, his first little misdemeanour and he’d been caught. What about all the real criminals out there? They were never brought to justice, but a few miles over the speed limit and he was going to be punished. His reputation would be ruined. He’d have a fine to pay.

He made his way home, uttering expletives he wasn’t aware he knew. As he swerved into his drive, the steering wheel was wet where his hands had gripped it tightly.

The following morning saw him at the local builder’s merchant, filling in a lease agreement, chatting amiably about some DIY jobs he was about to tackle.

Later that night, after Susan had fallen asleep, he got up and followed the route he’d taken the night before, but this time staying within the speed limit. He approached the offending camera, slowed down and stopped to look at it, before attacking it with the pneumatic drill he’d hired that morning.