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How do you get there?

"What did the last sign say?" His rising fury was palpable, the resentment fizzing in the air. I didn’t know.

"You’re the driver…" I began, timidly. The instant sound of disgust from his throat made me see red. "You’re supposed to be looking at the damn road!"

His reply was sharp, hurtful. "At the road. Yes. Not necessarily at the fucking signs!"

I fumbled with the creased map, attempting to decipher it through the spreading stains of freshly spilled coffee. The chill in the car stiffened my spine. I’d get us there.

It would be our very last journey together.

Written for ideath's 100 word challenge

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