My perfect suicide

Tears slowly rolling down my discolored face comes from pondering my short fate. I listen to my left blinker click in the distant background of my thoughts while I wait for my turn to enter the freeway heading east toward the dusky sky. Getting the green arrow, I squealed the tires on my red Mustang GT. The car rocketed across the stretched road onto the freeway. I made my way through six lanes of traffic into the carpool lane. My heart matched the speed of the car, which became a hundred and forty miles per hour, and my stomach was left behind at the signal light. I reached into my cigarettes and nervously placed one in my dry mouth. I flicked the lighter and watched the sparck burst into a flame that commenced dancing to my impending doom. Taking one last drag off the disgusting stick, a wounded laugh was forced out of my mouth from know what was ahead. I calmly jerked the steering wheel to turn my engine compartment toward the south concrete wall. I finally reached the last few deadly encrypted sentences in my explicit book as the car brought me closer to the end of my short fate.