Sweat was beading up on the back of her legs. She could feel her pores suffocating under the nylon hose, could feel herself suffocating inside the corset, could feel herself suffocating inside of her life.
Then without warning, that was suddenly it. That was all she was going to take.
She kicked her leg up over the door of the convertible Cadillac to get a breeze up her skirt.
“What the hell!” Her husband bellowed when he realized what she was doing.
Shrugging, she told him to shut it.
His jaw went slack, flabbergasted at her.
“Lynda, I swear, if you talk to me like that I’ll-”
She cut him off.
“You’ll just keep up your little slalom eastward on a street called north, but don’t worry about how off that is, because you’ll be to caught up to think about what happens next.
See, I know about all your girls. And I’ve finally had enough. I’m leaving you. And taking half of everything that’s yours.
I’m going to smoke, drink whiskey, dance with strange men, but more than that, I’m never going to wear these stupid clothes again.”
In the end, she wore the Cadillac better than he did.
It has always bothered me that it is impossible to drive in the direction that the three parkways are named for. North and South Parkways only has east/west traffic, East Parkway only north/south. I realize this is because they were originally the northern, southern and eastern edges of the city proper, but it still bothers me.