Why had the car had smashed through the wall of my motel room? Who knew, but there it was.
From bed, Rhonda screamed, “Do something!”
“She's hysterical,” I thought, “maybe I should slap her.”
I held my dog by his collar and we spun in backward circles. My nakedness was punctuated by my bare, white, butt circling round in the car's single remaining headlight.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 12:25am on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX2.