The 18-wheeler truck loomed ahead of her like the behemoth it was. She should have pulled out to pass it earlier, but every time she decided she would try, there was someone else pulling out from behind her first. And now she was right behind the truck, with cars piling up behind her and no room to pull back. She could almost feel the concentrated impatience of the drivers boring into the back of her neck. She knew what they were all thinking - is she going to move out or not? Well, how could she? Why didn’t they drop back a little so that she could get some distance from the truck? She couldn’t see around the truck! Was there traffic coming the other way? Should she peek? Would a vehicle belting down in the opposite direction run straight into her if she did? Was this going to be her day to die? What if she caused an accident and someone ELSE died? She couldn’t bear the thought of being in the news, of having her family and friends know, or (worst of all) having to go to prison. She veered slightly to the right, then jumped as a car flashed past. See, there WAS oncoming traffic! She could have died, right there she could have died! Was that someone beeping their horn at her? She wanted to disappear in embarrassment. She HAD to do something before a concerto of horns started up. Oncoming traffic be damned, she was going to pull out, pass the mile-long truck no matter what, and if it was her day to die horribly, she would just… wait, the truck was indicating a left turn. It was turning!!! The road ahead was clear, hooray!
She leaned back in her seat and floored the accelerator. Driving wasnt that big a deal, really.