A lonely turn in the road
If I could turn back time? I wouldn’t even get in the car. And if I had got in? I’d make him stop. Futile questions, pointless answers.
We were hours over the border when he started to shake. It ran out, he said. Or was it, She ran out. Afterwards, I could never be sure.
We fell apart pretty quickly after that, went our separate ways; he to his dream job in medicine. Wonder how he copes with the nightmares. Me? Alone in this empty house; abandoned surely, uninhabited? Waiting for another bleak night, at another lonely turn in the road.
M J Lewis ©2015
Here we are at another Wednesday, another Friday Fiction…It’s a long story, but for other short stories of 100 words, crossing borders and continents, click here. Thanks as ever to our host, writer and artist Rochelle and to The Reclining Gentleman for the photo.