by Paul Lewthwaite “This isn’t working." My words mix with the thrum of our car. You start to cry, fists pounding the steering wheel, ignoring the road. Wheels skid on ice—we slide onto a mad helter-skelter of blurred tarmac, looming headlights, and adrenaline. I come to, dangling upside down, hot petrol fumes thick in the air, the engine running. Your eyes are shut. Blood trickles from your nose. Outside, distant shouts and the wail of sirens. Flames burst into life behind us. I call your name. Your eyes flicker open. I croak out the words I should have said. “Let’s try again.” * * * Paul is a retired physician living in Scotland with his wife and a small, but all-powerful cat. Occasional flashes of inspiration generate stories. To his continuing surprise, some get published. Paul's fledgling website can be found at Can I Call Myself a Writer?
2 Comments
12/22/2024 04:30:01 pm
These 100 words captured the emotions and the scene. I liked it, thank you Paul.
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Paul
1/2/2025 08:22:36 am
Thanks, Ling Ling :-)
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