Wring: Moment in Time - The Rush

He brought the car down hard. The entire chassy shook with the impact, but he no longer cared. He was too busy singing along to his radio as it blared into the cool October air. His hands firmly held the wheel, much like it used to hold her. As he regained a straight path, he took a sip from the liter of vodka he bought and sped through a red light. The red lights flashing behind him never registered in his mind. Faster and faster he went until he struck the break so hard that the car seemed to cry as he flew into the turn. The car behind him drew closer then swerved to dodge a possible collision. His pulse was racing as he hit 100 miles per hour; pounding by the time he hit 130. He drove for hours, but it must have been only minutes - until he hit the road block. The shots fired and he pressed harder on the gas. The pistons pumped faster and faster as each bullet tore through his body. Each flip the car made no longer mattered. When they finally ended and the police surrounded his car, he was still awake, taking a sip from his half-broken bottle. He smiled, said something which was filed away in a police case labeled Drunk Driver, and forgotten.