***Thanks for reading; critique always welcome!***
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As always, the lolling moon dripped its light onto the Miami night. My head thrummed with the tinkle and growl of the Saturday evening masses as the car whipped past tourist traps and favoured haunts. The usual chorus sang with primeval abandon, lapping gleefully at the shores of folly. But I was used to it.
The thing is, while most people dread the uninvited, sudden appearance of a stranger's face reflected in the rear view mirror, I've made peace with mine, so to speak. The Dark Passenger is my constant coaxing companion, the best kind of backseat driver who pores over no map, but instead gurgles "Go! Go!" with yellow teeth chattering and flickering in the passing neon. So here I am, a modern-day Pinocchio, meaner, defter, but still the wilful wooden son under the aegis of a thoughtful father, aching to become a bonafide little boy, or at least to pass for one.
The Floridian heat poured in from the open windows, and somewhere out there, the night moaned deliriously. I thought about the trunk, the cooler inside, and my chosen token for tonight's sortie, hoping that it would suffice for those special, delicate, exuberant moments. I was pretty confident. After all, had I not taken into account every variable imaginable, considered every option offered and picked the one best suited to this stupendous soirée?
My destination finally loomed into view. It was moonlit and filled with pulsing hearts and beckoning blood. I pulled discreetly into the driveway and nestled neatly next to three other cars. It looked like my timing was tight, in the most complementary sense of the word. I sidled to the trunk and it opened with an energetic thunk. I slid the lid off the cooler with practiced eagerness. My fingers tasted a brief respite from this tropical heat as they plunged into the ice and grasped the smooth, hard neck of the prize. Then I jogged up the steps to my sister's birthday dinner, a bottle of perfectly chilled, soulfully selected red in my hand, the killing songs in my head dulled to a serpentine susurration, for now.