Just one o' those nights...

Tears welling up in his eyes, he slammed his foot down hard on the gas. The sound of the music flew out the open windows, meeting the cold air as it rushed in, lovingly ruffling his hair. He turned the heavy guitars up until the nob wouldn't move anymore and flew around the corner. He passed a sign that read "Speed Limit 45 mph" and grinned maniacally as he looked at his speedometer and saw that it read twice that. He swung around another corner, swerving into the wrong lane and narrowly missing a mailbox. He tore through a small village. Noticing the speed limit was 25 mph, he lightly tapped the brake pedal, slowing down but not enough. He turned the music down to avoid waking the sleeping town. As he zipped through the quiet streets, the song changed. "Who am I but you in the sun? A sad reflection of everyone" The song continued as he got the edge of the village. Then, as he passed a sign reading "Speed limit 35" already going twice that, he put his foot back on the floor, revving his engine in sync with the song's crescendo. "Look at me!" his stereo screamed. He tore up the hill, the wind whipping at his eyes, dragging the tears back to his ears, which burned with the cold. In no time, he came to another town, this one with a higher speed limit, still irrelevant to his actual speed. He raced up the long shallow hill toward the red light, showing no sign of slowing, or any intention of it. With the light still red, he broke through the intersection, passing the white church and the gas station like old people on a highway. In seconds he was out of the town and back on the dark road, music leaving a trail of fading sound behind him. He threw on his blinker and turned onto the Taconic, speeding up as he rounded the curve to merge. His foot back on the floor, he roared down the quiet highway. He drove for a while until he came to a point to turn around. Switched pedals, but kept his foot on the floor. The tires screamed as the car spun around. Now facing the opposite direction, he hurtled down the road until he came to a small rest stop. It was a small parking lot, a place for children to pee and parents too look at maps, cluelessly. He turned off his car and got out. He opened the trunk and took out his horrified guitar. He closed the trunk went around to the front. After a minute and a half, the lights went off and his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Behind him, the full moon shined her light brilliantly, lighting up the valley below him. He smiled a bit and wiped his eyes dry. Wrapping the guitar over his shoulder, he leaned back on the warm hood of the car, resting his back against the windshield. A car drove by and he laughed to himself.
"Just one o' those nights," he said, and he began to play.