“Triple A?! More like I need some police assistance!,” you say as your anger trumps your surprise at his appearance.
“Lookit…I have this sleepin’ problem, it ain’t narcoleprosy or whatever, but sometimes I just feelike snoozin’ when I’m croozin’.”
At this, you can only give him a dumb-founded and irritated look. You try to get your car started again, but the collision must have jarred or broken something important because it won’t start. You don’t have a phone on you, so you take the trucker’s offer.
“Ya see, I’m out drivin’ all day long, twunny-four hours sumtime, and beein how I’m akchally blind, there ain’t much uvva diference when I’m asleep,” he ends up explaining to you as he drives.
“Blind?! How can you be…”
“Jes lissen, I got special sensers runnin’ from these tubes and wires and such that help me sense wut’s out in fronta me. They also give me the nootrents I need ta live.”
Go to page 65.
(Back to Index of Pages)