Here’s another snippet of a story I’m working on revising:

The street lamps’ sickly yellow light slid greasily over the sky blue Monte Carlo as the long shape prowled the asphalt. With the windows down, the humidity of the night seemed to pour inside, sticking thickly to the stained and cigarette burned cloth seats. The smell of Muddy Creek filled the air on nights like this, spreading an invisible musty and rotten cloud over the whole area. The smell felt oddly cool, though, from the subterranean air issuing from enormous culverts hiding half of the festering storm runoff and sewage overflow.

The radio blared the latest heavy metal crunch with a tinny, far-away sound, as if coming through a thick fog. Cars slipped past him in both directions, snatches of music escaping through open windows with each passing. Everything seemed far away tonight. The lights of the shopping center blinked from way down the strip. He slowed down a little, dreading their approach. He wanted to drive away, as far as he could, instead. He fixed his eyes to the road in front of him and pushed the accelerator down.