Asleep at the Wheel

By Tee Morris

From the dark imagination of Tee Morris, author of Sweet Embrace, comes a short story that tests the boundaries of The Real.

Patrick Martin, a weary commuter, embarks on his routine drive home after a grueling day. Little does he know that this ordinary night will unravel the darkest recesses of his mind. With the road stretching ahead, Patrick's thoughts spiral. As the lines between reality and nightmare blur he is transported to a place no one wants to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ImagineThat Studios
• Release date: Mar 10, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476127781

Tee Morris

While Tee Morris began his writing career with Dragon Moon Press's 2002 historical epic fantasy Morevi: The Chronicles of Rafe and Askana, it is his podcast of that book and works such as Podcasting for Dummies and All a Twitter that have earned him the distinction as one of the pioneers of social media. With Phoenix Rising, Tee returns to where he prefers to be—his imagination. When he is not there, Tee lives in the Washington, D.C. area with his five cats and one daughter, all of whom have him very well-trained.

Book preview

Asleep at the Wheel

By

Tee Morris

Tee Morris

Copyright 2012 by ImagineThat! Studios

Smashwords Edition

The drive home really wasn’t bad tonight. For a change, traffic was light. Usually the infamous D.C. Beltway was nothing more than a perpetual backup of every make and model of car from the Virginia-Maryland-Washington D.C. metro area, license plates of all kinds either designating diplomats from foreign countries, owners’ nicknames, or quick little messages to other commuters. Patrick preferred the latter as it would turn a long drive into a pleasant deciphering game, making the experience somewhat bearable. Tonight the plate he saw before they pulled away was CMR0F1T. Seymour Fit? See more of it? See more of what? Why would anyone get that on their license plates?

Once the car zipped off its exit of choice, Patrick took a look around again. Pleasantly light. Then again, it was a weeknight and it was late. He had been asking himself for the past month exactly why he was still working out at this gym; this gym so far away from his apartment that—quite frankly—really wasn’t a gym. He remembered when he was having lunch with Lauren the odd look she gave him when he was describing his workout. Intense aerobic cross-training, alongside kids ages nine to sixteen, led by some gymnastic diva from Romania.

His workmate had paused in her usual lunch of a Cobb salad, looked at him with her head tilted, and asked, Who put you up to that?

My girlfriend, he had initially answered. Then he corrected himself, "My ex-girlfriend."

Yeah, it had been his ex-girlfriend’s idea to