driving

I was driving at night down the backstreets of a suburb in Brisbane. My car, if you can call it that, was just the seat and a steering stick – like an electric wheelchair, although it was a car. I approached some poles cemented in a median strip and could see that someone had clothed the poles in a woman’s dress – a practical joke that I though rather dangerous. It looked as though there was a woman standing in the middle of the road. I turned down a street and could hear two people talking further down the road: a father and his daughter. I passed them, gaining speed, and turned into another street. I felt uneasy as I could see a large male figure lurking in the darkness. As I passed him, he started to run after me. I tried to speed up and to find the headlights so as I might blind him. He was gaining on me as I raced toward the corner. I was scared of taking the corner too quickly as I might overturn, but I was also scared that if I slowed down, he would catch me. I tried to call out using my deepest voice to make him think that I wasn’t female, and I actually did call out and woke to the sound of my voice in the night.