The DeVille

The streetlights glistened off the black paint in the night as he drove. He sat in silence, listening to the rumble of the 1961 Cadillac Deville.
The car alone drove on the four-lane highway, raised far above from the dark surrounding waist land. He changed
gears and increased speed, the streetlights turning to a blur. The speedometer read 98, 99,100; but it still wasn't fast enough.
He needed more speed, and continued to push the car. He knew not what he was running from, nor his destination, but he knew the need to
drive. The night was quiet but for the scream and rumble of the car as it flew faster down the highway. The road lights turning into a
solid mass of light as the speedometer read 153, but it was not enough. Each new mile of the highway was a beacon to move foreword.
His only thought remained to drive, consumed by the light glinting of the Deville and the next stretch of the highway. The speedometer
read 230, but he still drove on and on, escaping and embracing the night as he did. The speedometer read 380 as the engine thundered and whined,
the sound driving deep into his mind. The car seemed to float off the ground as it reached 520 miles per hour, the engine
sounding of a cascading avalanche. The air screamed past the car, his foot pressed hard on the throttle,
his knuckles white from squeezing the wheel. The air croaked as the car plowed through 640, electricity appearing to crackle
along the car. The car seemed to glow as it reached 800, the blue light flowing over the jet black paint. The Blue glow started to engulf the car
, the electricity dancing around the car. The great scream and noise of the engine became him. With a crack of thunder and the sound of breaking glass,
the car vanished in a burst of light, leaving only the lonely highway highway and a few wisps of smoke.