the windows of the red porsche 718 cayman s were wound up. the smell of whiskey, high like the pitch of his singing and whistling, is battling roy acuff screaming himself hoarse about a soul that has been called by the master. he had no care in the world – he was yellow. he switched tracks and nicki minaj sang “redone/let’s go to the beach.” he pushed down on the accelerator – the turbo-charged four-cylinder boxer engines screamed in joy. he was driving home and texting his girlfriend … “starships were meant to fly/hands up and touch the sky/let’s do this one last time/can’t stop…/we’re higher than a motherfucker.” he heard the loud metallic bang. when he got home his wife couldn’t see him …
Copyright © Fani-Kayode Omoregie 2016
 Acuff, Roy. (1942). Wreck on the Highway. Fire Bail Mail. Okeh.
Read this and other stories in my collected short stories – deuces.