F3 The Road

     One more mile.
     One more mile behind, one more mile to go.

     The images still flashed. Vibrant, visceral images that would not be pushed aside no matter how hard I tried. The monotony of the speeding interstate. The barren plain offered no relief, and the flashing white line that divided the road bled together until it became solid, a line back to the beginning, back to the images.
     A face painted in terror. Flash. A man pleading with hands up. Flash. A woman's face gone slack and bloodless. Flash.
     I wrenched the car back as it drifted over the line.
     Focus. Drive. Must get away.
     God! How far do I have to go for the images to fade?
     One more mile.