IMSMRT

She smiled. There were few things she enjoyed more then driving with the top down on her brand new baby blue VW Bug. She smiled again as she switched on the cd player, and one of her favorite driving tunes, the Eurythemics "Let's Go" began to play. As she put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway, she automatically reached to turn up the song, as she sang along with Annie Lennox.

The Bug backed onto the street, its "IMSMRT" license plate glistening in the sun. She was happy. Happier then she'd been in a very long time. She put the car into gear, and raced down the street, heading to the parkway. The wind blew her hair across her face, and her smile widened.

As the car moved down the parkway, for once, traffic was moving. Today, everything was working in her favor. The sun warmed her, bringing a sense of new life. She thought about where she had been just a few months ago. How different things were now. All because for once, she had played it smart.

She liked her new life. She liked being a member of the sisterhood of the smart, instead of the foolish girl she once was. All it had taken was one phone call and a lot of courage. So what if she had given up all elements of the crappy life she once called her own. Here it was a Tuesday afternoon, and she was off, sailing down the parkway on her way to the beach.

Her former life. It made her laugh out loud. She remembered what it had been like before that day when she picked up the phone and made the call. Her life had sucked. She had a job she hated, a lecherous scumbag boss with hands like an oily octopus. She had lived in fear of life and living.

Her boss had capitalized on her meekness, and had never bothered to notice her intelligence, choosing to focus on her blonde hair and big boobs. But underneath the fear, hair and tatas, she was and always had been a smart girl. She learned the details of his business and had made a list of all the names and numbers to seal the deal against him. Not only did the authorities provide her with a generous reward, a new identity, and a new life, but she had managed to skim a nice amount from the lech without anyone knowing. She figured it was ample payment for all the time his filthy hands had groped her in the hallway. She knew she had made the right moves when the scumbag had graciously eliminated the need for her to testify when two months after his arrest, he blew his head off with the Glock he kept in his top desk drawer.

Now, her life was free and easy. All the good. None of the bad. She reminded herself of all she accomplished with her "IMSMRT" license plate. She had a cool car, money in the bank and the smell of the salt air. As she pulled into parking field four, she reached for the blanket in the back seat and headed for a nice warm spot in the sand.

This is one in a series of fiction blogs inspired by license plates seen by me in my travels.