Nevis steadied his hand on the wheel, the road slippery; it forced him to slow down.

“Fuck this is bad,” he mumbled to himself, lighting a cigarette with one hand and filling the car up with a puff of smoke.

The rain pounded against the car, a full on airborne assault.

“I’d hate to be stuck outside in this,” mumbling again to himself.

The radio wouldn’t work, no surprise there. Even with the attempted turning and banging if the radios knob. Nevis was better off putting on a CD, and as though I’d read his mind. He popped open the cars glove compartment and took out a thick CD case. A vast array of albums inside, Nevis was proud of his collection. Perhaps overly proud. He believed his identity lay within the tracks, it defined him as well as gave meaning to his life.

“Breaking Benjamin, here we go,” the CD pops into the player as though being slowly slobbered by it, the digitised interface flashing with a retro orange text stating, ‘Track 1’.

“Rain rain go away, come again another day…”

The man hums along to the song.

The rain lets up ever so slightly, revealing more of the road ahead.

(Will continue…)