The Middle Finger

Omar Watson sat on the side of the highway contemplating the awesome power of a middle finger.

Who knew middle fingers had so much power?

Who knew that one simple, silent movement had the power to scream?  

 Who knew one ordinary finger, slightly longer than any other, had the power to give you an enemy – damn near instantly!

Omar never had an enemy before, but after his father, Jasper cast a nice, fat middle finger right down the middle of 71, now he did.  

This was all new and exciting to him.

In fact, everything in the last month had been exciting to him, he noted as black smoke piled from his car, creating fat billows into the sky.

It was exciting when he confessed his love to his girlfriend. He remembered feeling butterflies fly around in his stomach and thinking, perhaps for the first time ever, that he may be in love.

It was exciting when she dumped him unexpectedly. It felt like pigeon poop to an unsuspecting bald head. He didn’t see it coming.

It was exciting when he decided in a panic he was moving across the country. The breakup had served as a reminder life is to be lived, and you only live it by living. An unfortunate sobering reality.

And finally, It was exciting when the car veered off the road before flying into the air and into a rolling stop.

He leaned up on the side of the large support beam under the bridge and rubbed his fingers across the cool concrete cylinder. The friction was somehow comforting and caused him to reflect on where it all began.

He and Jasper were driving by mile marker who the fuck knows, and were mentally somewhere between annoyed and dazed. They were trying to fight off the lingering feeling that they should have gotten gas as the orange gas ticker inched ever so closely to E.

In front of them, long stretches of road went on for miles before fading into the grey horizon. And then, when all hope was nearly lost, they saw a bright blue sign that appeared like a gift from the heavens above.

BP Gas station – 1 mile. 

Jasper’s white teeth flashed as his mouth eased into a smile.

Bout’ damn time.

He looked over at Omar, who didn’t appreciate the situation or the salvation. He was hunched over; the phone’s glow bounced off his face, looming over pictures of what looked like his ex-girlfriend. Even more troubling, to the right of Omar, smack dab in their way, was the lady driving alongside them. Her head shot forward as her car sped up.

For the past 2 hours, Jasper and the lady were caught in the worst kind of race: a race with no finish line. When one car would gain the lead, the other would fly forward until they could read the bumper sticker, push the hammer down and take the lead again.

 And what started off as an innocent coincidence would soon become personal as these matters often do. In the quiet of the car ride, Jasper’s mind had become incredibly convinced this lady was in fact, out to get him as he tried to size her up her motives.

Did I cut her off a while ago?

Does she know me from my past? 

Is there something she’s trying to tell me?

He cut his eyes to the mirror and frowned as he noticed her oblivious smile.

She needs to get the fuck off this road!” Jasper pleaded to the plastic dashboard, which offered silent sympathy.

“Hey – get her attention; we gotta stop for gas; she’s gotta let us over.”

Omar looked up from his phone and glanced to his right to get a read on the clueless lady.

She wore big black sunglasses that covered her face and made her look like a fly. Her head was tilted down, staring at her phone, which of course, is the last thing anyone wants to see while driving 70 miles per hour. It was a miracle she kept the car on the road.

“Did you put your blinker on?”

“Of course I did! What do you think?”

Jasper’s mouth curled down as he glanced at his tank, another tick closer to E. He wailed on the horn.

Get the fuck out of the way!”

Jasper’s eyes widened as he noticed the exit ramp approaching and tried to slow down to get behind her.


Despite staring at her phone, she found a way to block his exit and match his speed. The cars were side by side as if there was a magnet forcing a connection.

And that’s when it all happened.

Jasper’s nostrils flared.

His black finger turned white as he firmly pressed down on the automatic window button, and with the other hand, he shoved his son back in the seat. And then, he jammed his big hand damn near out the window and gave her the bird.

Move over!

She looked up and did the most inconceivable action.

She smiled and waved, which had the effect of short-circuiting Jasper.

His jaw dropped, his face twisted in puzzlement, and he looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Watch out!” Omar screamed!

Standing smack dab in the middle of the road, there stood a 10-point Buck. Jasper, still staring at the lady, didn’t see it coming.

And he didn’t have to; his other senses did the heavy lifting. 


He felt the impact of 70 miles per hour onto the buck’s side.

He heard the shatter of glass cry out with sudden deafening force.

He tasted the dirt as it kicked up and blew into his mouth.

He smelled the engine mix with the cool outdoor air that bites your nose.

And when he looked up, he saw the world was upside down as the car began to roll.

Omar’s move was over before it even began.

Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think. I’m currently working on two books. This is the rough draft of the first chapter of one of the books. Let me know if this is something worth pursuing.


29 thoughts on “The Middle Finger

  1. So the moral of the story is don’t ever flip anyone off or never try new things once you reach a certain age?


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