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Sometimes a pleasant afternoon drive isn't to pleasant. |
Broke Down. By Stephen A Abell – Thursdqy, 5th January 2023. Number of Words – 300. “I don’t believe four words have caused as much trouble as ‘I have a plan!’ Should you hear this phrase, run. “We’d been together forever. I still don’t know why I never asked Abs to marry me. Anyway’s, our car had broke down: A flat tyre on a back road in the arse-end of nowhere. I knew we were fubar’d when I noticed the flat limp-home tyre in the boot. Abby berated me, and rightly so. When I bought the car a few months ago, I'd not checked the damned tyre. But, seriously, who does that, right? “That’s when she uttered those life-changing words, ‘I have a plan!’ “We’d passed a dirt road a couple of miles back, and it looked well-travelled, so the plan was to walk there and down the track, hoping we’d find a house and telephone. Cell reception was fubar’d too. “Forty minutes and three miles later, the setting sun was deepening the shadows of the thirty-foot spruces on either side of the dusty road. I had that sinking feeling this was logging land, and no salvation awaited at the end of the tree line. “We heard the scratching then: Claws on wood. “We sped up from a stroll to a trot. Ten minutes later, the shadows in the woodland had grown denser, and the scraping sound was louder…closer. We looked at each other: We needed no words: Terror works fine. We ran. “Abby was in front of me when the tentacle slashed free from the forest. Within a second, it had her tightly entwined, restricting her screams. “Then, she was gone. “I ran fast. Faster. “Then I saw you sitting against the tree trunk. Help(?) I thought. But you’re just a skeleton, though a darn good listener. “Well, I’m off. “You see...I have a plan!” |