She groaned out loud and hit the steering wheel with her hands—not typical Trudy.
“What?” I asked. I thought we had forgotten something.
“I can’t believe … that lady … with wind like this and the fires … that lady just flicked her ashes out her car window.”
The light turned green. The lady went speeding off, on to the next light where we came up on her, again.
“Inférieure,” I muttered to myself out loud in the manner of Depardieu from some movie that I cannot remember.
White BMW sedan, Texas plates, GNP 275.