You know this terror.

You’re cruising along the highway, keeping an eye out for trucks, lane changers and exit signs when suddenly you look in the rearview mirror and see a driver so close to your bumper you can practically see the whites of his eyes.

Your heart starts racing. Your blood pressure begins to rise. All you want to do is get to your destination, which for me, often enough, is visiting my grandchildren, a journey that sends me across three local expressways on a fairly regular basis.

Get off my bumper, you shout into the mirror, as if the man in the white sedan can hear you.

But he doesn’t. He stays there, whether you speed up or slow down. Suddenly, you’re hyper-focused on the bully. It begins to feel like you’re in a crazy video game.

Only the stakes are very real.

You

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