It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again – thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 🙂
We’re still cruising… it’s still raining. 😦
At first silence. Then a ticking as the car’s wheels spin lazily in the air; the hiss of snowflakes falling on the upturned chassis.
She turns a blood-streaked face towards him… moans.
“I’ll get help, Ellie, just hang on,” he pleads, levering himself out of the shattered window.
“Tonight’s been a blast,’ he thinks, slithering down the hillside back to the town, “it can’t end this way.”
Stealing the Mustang, robbing the Seven-11. She’d loved it. Loved him.
He sees the payphone ahead, and quickens his pace.
And then, he remembers what he did for an encore.
She’ll die laughing.