THE ESCAPE

I'm driving south in an obscure alley at the middle of a winter night in a modern city when all of a sudden my car stops in the middle of the road. The engine wouldn't start despite my chronic exertions to restart it. I glance at the fuel gauge on the dashboard with heavy eyes as anxiety and panic pervade my entire being. Damn! The tank is empty! Really excellent! Freaking wow! How come I didn't notice?

With my heart thumping, I kick the door open and drag my lethargic, worn-out self outside. I'm not accustomed to spending so much time in the driver's seat. Heck! My longest solo drive so far has probably been an hour. And now, since I waltzed out of the office, how long have I been driving? My watch reads ten minutes to midnight. I'm worn out. I'm so drained. How I managed to maintain control of the steering for such an absurdly more than eight hours drive is indecipherable.

It was at exactly two in the afternoon when the meeting ended at the Ricca court where our main office is locat