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Shift Gears: Flash Fiction

Mike is a long-time supporter of procrastination and enjoys doing as often as he can.


Shift Gears

The car jumped the curb, nearly sliding into a row of parked vehicles as April downshifted, hoping to keep control of an out-of-control scenario. All the while, she kept stabbing at the clutch that wasn’t there. She missed the feel of a real manual transmission. The feeling of being one with the car controlling it rather than a passenger letting the car do all the work. She also liked the overt sexuality and feel of working the stick, shifting gears. She regained control and sped up, going from sixty to eighty miles an hour. The McLaren Senna looked fast standing still. Its sexy lines and low to the ground feel gave April the feeling of a go-cart rather than a race car. She passed a police car on the side of the road giving a ticket to a Toyota Prius. She was up and over one-hundred miles, shaking both cars as she went past. The officer raced to his car, but he had no chance of catching up with her.

April took the next exit drifting through the exit onto the side road and coming to a stop at a light. Her hands vibrated with adrenalin, sexual tension, and that feeling you only get from stealing a fast car. She set the launch button and waited for the light to change, going from zero to sixty in about five seconds. The car was so low to the ground it felt like she was on a skateboard rolling near one-hundred miles on twisty dark roads. A light came on, low fuel. Just ahead were the lights of a gas station.


She got out and swiped the stolen credit card to pay for the gas going into her stolen car. April knew the score. She knew people would remember the sexy vehicle and the person driving it, so he had a plan. On days April stole cars, she wore the highest cut jean-shorts she owned with the smallest shirt and a bra that pushed and tucked all the right places making her into a sexier version of herself. She padded all the right places to change her shape from a C to a double-D. With makeup, a cheap wig, and as much fake jewelry as she could fit on, she looked more like a trailer-park Taylor Swift. Guys would remember har body while any woman would remember just how cheap she looked. She called this look her trailer-park camouflage.

The gas station was empty except for the attendant in his locked bullet resistant enclosure inside. April felt his eyes on her backside, so she made sure to bend over as she pretended to clean her windshield. April decided to see just how far she could push her luck. April slowly walked in, hoping to not trip on the six-inch heels she was using to hide her height. She walked past the guy and over to the drink cooler. She picked out a bottle of water, knowing anything else would be a mistake. April was convinced he never blinked the entire time she was in the store. She paid for the drink and walked out. Halfway to her car, April stopped and took a long sip, letting the water run from her mouth down her shirt, knowing the colorful bra would show through. She slipped behind the wheel, and using the launch function took off, jumping the curb leaving the rush of wind in her wake.

Twenty miles away from where she stole the car, she found him. Leo was a man who knew how to sell those things people didn’t own, a fence. He would disable the tracker and have the car in a shipping container on its way to Asia long before the car’s owner knew it was gone. April fell into her post car funk in seeing him knowing the ride was almost over. She sped up and slid the car to a stop in front of Leo. He was angry but less so when he saw what she was wearing. April slipped off the shirt, tossing it into the car. She slid out of her painful stiletto-heels, letting Leo walked up to getting close.

He said, “very nice.”

April asked, “me or the car?”

Leo looked her up and down “car? Oh yeah, the car is nice.”

April pulled him close and kissed him. She moved her hands around and unclasped her bra, letting it fall into the car. She slipped off the wig and slid out of the tight shorts.

Leo asked, “here, now?”

April chuckled, “no, this car is sexy, but it wasn’t built to have sex

in, it just wouldn’t work.”

April walked over to her car and opened the trunk. She slid on a simple sundress and a pair of sensible flats. Leo would make sure her disguise would travel with the car in a quick, inexpensive way to dispose of the evidence. This was the ritual every time she stole a car. Every time she stripped down to her panties, and every time, she left him standing their gaping jaw and hard. She pulled away in her used Hyundai Accent, doing the speed limit.


She stopped at the same gas station and went into the bathroom. She removed the makeup taking with it her car thief facade. The clerk behind the glass was the same one from before, but he didn’t give this April a second look. She pulled out of the station and onto the highway. A line of police cars ran past the exit going the wrong way. In a few days, she will have payment in bitcoin for her work. She pulled into the driveway and back into her parking spot. Sitting next to her were a few books, mostly poetry. April slipped into the back door and ran into her employer Mary.

Mary asked, “so how was the library?”

April smiled and said, “quiet as ever, but they had the book I was waiting for, so it was worth the time.”

Mary said, “April, you’re a cute little girl. You spend all day with my children as a nanny, you should be getting out and having fun while you’re young enough to enjoy life.”

April said, “When it comes to fun, I know how to shift gears.”

© 2019 Michael Collins aka Lakemoron

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