By Thomas Kleaton
Aaron hated turn-signal abusers.
He approached the stop sign. A Lincoln bucketed by on his left, exiting the highway with no turn-signal.
People in a hurry. Too busy to signal, too busy to stop, he thought about waking up to Shelby’s empty side of the bed that morning. Too busy to leave a goodbye note.
Another car was approaching.
Probably turn off with no signal.
The way Shelby veered off, leaving him to coast into the breakdown lane of life.
Too busy to care anymore.
He rolled into the intersection without slowing, hoping the other driver was in a hurry.