Cranked up on adrenaline, he barely blinks for miles. His zigzag route away from the life that’s got him stuck leads him to a bar. He pretends to be calm while he watches the girl lick her lips. Outside, she squints into the bloodshot sun, puts on wraparound sunglasses. Feet on the dash of the camper, she separates each toe with cotton. When he pumps the brakes, a swipe of red bloodies the balls. Later, she asks, Can I drive? They both know where. She’ll be his next exit, nearest off –ramp, the neon sign he can’t wait to run.
Gretchen
19/5/2023 08:56:54 pm
Great story, Cheryl!
Cheryl Snell
20/5/2023 02:25:56 am
Thanks so much!
Sue Clayton
20/5/2023 05:31:38 am
The neon signs flashing that there's more to this intriguing story.
Cheryl Snell
21/5/2023 07:23:17 pm
I'm glad I could draw you in! Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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