His legs stuck to the vinyl seats slicked in sweat even though it was barely midday. His driver’s side arm was already sun burnt and coated in the dust of the city. But it felt normal to him. The rusted out hulk of brick canyons was home and he had no problem being shoved down its valleys on his never-ending route. It was the cacophony of bleating horns that bothered him. So he shoved his ear buds in tighter to block it out.
