A hundred and forty kilometres. A little above three hours. Three and a half, tops, with any unscheduled breaks. Before noon, she would be at her destination. Myra took a deep breath. Found a local radio station she could live with, and cranked up the engine. The automatic sprang to life with a slow purr. The traffic was light at this time of the morning, and she was on the highway within a half hour of starting out. She had now found a station playing classics, with hourly news thrown in, in the local language. The sun was shining behind her. The cloud cover increasing ahead of her. Shades on her eyes, she put the car on cruise control, and stared straight ahead. At first she wasn’t sure she had heard it right. But she reduced the volume on the radio anyway. And tried to hear more carefully. She was right! There it was – the muffled, but unmistakable thumping noise coming from the car! Myra groaned. Oh, please! Not a flat! Not now! It wasn’t the ...
Seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary