Their Chevy, laden with two week’s necessities, idled in the driveway.
“You turn off the coffee pot?”
“Yes. You get my make-up bag?”
“Yes. But, I think I forgot something.”
“Mail held, neighbors reminded?”
“Yes, yes, something else…”
“Keys, wallet, prescription?”
“With all these questions, I forgot where we’re going.”
Joan Raymond is pursuing a degree in Creative Writing and English from SNHU. She enjoys watching her cats run around like maniacs at night and eating dark chocolate to stimulate her creativity.
I hate overnight road trips. They’re always the same, just following a thin white broken line that stretches on forever in a blackened landscape. It draws you into the centre where darkness encroaches from the sides until…
BLOODY HELL! If I didn’t swerve that truck would have got me tonight.
Connell Wayne Regner had successfully avoided writing creatively since he wrote spontaneous lyrics to music many years ago. Although from a linguistic background, he has serendipitously succumbed to fiction after spontaneously creating bedtime stories for his children. His other dabblings can be found at paragraphplanet and wtdmagazine.wordpress.com.
We’d packed that hatchback so full of clothing, food, and camping gear that we could hardly buckle our seatbelts. We had no plan but “Go”, no destination but “Good times”.
We put the car in gear, and
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!!
all four tires burst simultaneously.
“Are we there yet?”
“No,” Mary snapped. Two of the kids started crying.
Ben ignored them.
Mary groaned. “Why do we even go for these drives? We don’t like it. The kids don’t like it. Nobody likes it.”
“Fine.” Ben turned the car around.
Beneath them, the road sighed sadly.
This story is based on a title suggested by @THatherty2.