Recalculating

Did you know that on Wednesdays we have a vote over at Indies Unlimited for a weekly flash fiction contest. It’s true, I wouldn’t lie to you (fiction writer pretty much every thing I say is a lie). But what does this mean for you?

Well, the obvious thing is you get to participate in a democratic process and make your mark on the future of culture, or something…

No, really it is important. Read the story and then go vote. You know you want to.

Recalculating

The frosty designs on the windshield looked pretty until I remembered where I was: lost.

recalculating

photo by K.S. Brooks

The GPS had said to turn left and follow County Road 2941 for thirty miles. Thirty miles turned into fifty on a winding mountain dirt road. When it got dark, I parked in the first pull-out I could find. Then I fell asleep.

I wasn’t sure if the morning light, the aching cold in my feet, or my hungry stomach woke me. Or maybe it was that weird noise…

A sort of rattle thump, rattle thump assaulted the still morning air. With frozen fingers, I scraped at the ice crystals that had formed inside the windows of my car, but it wasn’t enough to see the source of the sounds.

I rolled down the window, metal scrap in large piles towered over the side of the car. The same view greeted me out the passenger side window as well. The mountain had grown beside each door and trapped me within.

I scraped vigorously at the front window but it still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t see much beyond the fog and ice that covered it. I wasn’t thinking, desperation took control of my motor skills. Instead of doing the intelligent action of turning the key and filling the car with the heat of a warm engine, I stuck my head out the driver’s side window.

Creatures on stilts sifted through the mountains of metal. Engrossed in their tasks they hadn’t noticed me nor my car. That changed when I fired her up.

The engine coughed and sputtered in the cold morning air. When she caught, she roared into life. The tires spun as I pulled away from the growing tomb of scrap metal. But it clamped down tight, held my front end as my tires smoked the pavement.

The creatures raced toward my car as I finally broke free. I slammed the stick into drive and never looked back again, still have no idea where I spent that night.

***

So really from this point forward it is pretty easy. Go over to Indies Unlimited and make your mark (mine should be easy to find). You will gain a great sense of civic pride, I promise.

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