The Woman in the Sports Car

The drive home from work started out uneventful enough until I saw her smile. I was idly daydreaming when a glance to my right caught a shiny new sports car where its driver, with a flick of her long red hair and a sly smile, had my immediate attention. As we jockeyed down the highway, I began to wonder, who was this woman, and where had she been all my life? And as I exited the freeway and glanced in my rearview mirror, she was behind me. And as I made a turn down a side street, she was center in my rear view mirror. What did she want? Was she going to follow me home to find out who I was? Another turn, then another and yet another and still she followed. My mind was racing wondering what I was going to say to her when she got out of her car to approach me. One more turn and then she was gone. Just like that it was over. But for the memory of her smile and my own imagination, the encounter questions will go unanswered.