Lane Closed Ahead

By Burt Constable

Before dawn, the precision Commuter Annoyance Squad hits the highways. In my imagination, the first row of vehicles, three-abreast to block all lanes, creeps along the empty pavement at exactly 18 miles an hour. The second row of cars, also spanning the width of the expressway, waits 30 seconds and then accelerates to 65 miles an hour before slamming on their brakes and screeching to a dead stop inches behind the rear bumpers of the sluggish leaders. They repeat this process ad nauseam, setting the pace for the morning rush hour that is neither in a rush nor completed within an hour.…

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