“That’s the price you pay,” she told me. Somewhere down the road, a man hobbled down, his leg bent and broke with time. White locks blowing with the warm desert air. She threw the car in gear and pressed hard on the gas – an automatic vibrator of fury in overdrive. She nodded toward me, smirked. “You wanna see something worth watching for a change?” The scene was cacti and tumbleweed – something out of a movie or a dull dreamer’s book. Nothing remotely interesting out there. She aimed the car at the old man. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Just watch,” she said pushing down the pedal, zipping the car toward the unsuspecting victim. At the last moment, she blared the horn…