“This is literal hell,” Greg groaned as he lay his head on the steering wheel. Susie and Freddie continued to scream in the back of the car, both bothered by the heat and frustrated by their car seats. It was at least thirty minutes to the next service station, and they still had an hour after that.
“Google says it’s not that far to the accident,” Freya said, waving her phone at Greg. The thick red line of traffic they were sitting in spread to the top of the map and beyond, at least 2 miles away.
“That’s still too far,” Greg groaned, “this is why I hate the M25”
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