Thursday, August 28, 2008


She was hunched over the cash machine, crying. Paul hit the brakes and slowed to a halt. He wound down the window. She had one bare foot, and her hair was still wet. ‘Baby.’

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Come on, let me take you home.’

‘I don’t have a home. I’ve got nothing.’

‘You’ve got me.’

‘I have nothing.’

She kicked off her shoe and walked fast down the street without looking back.

Paul got out the car. He left the engine running and the door wide open. He picked the shoe off the street and held on to it, tight.


Craig Sorensen said...

My imagination is running rampant with this one. What happened before? What is to come?

Nikki Magennis said...

Hm, yeah, maybe not enough to satisfy in this one, eh? I wanted to use a photo I took the other day, but it kind of spun into a bigger story that wanted to spill over 100 words. Bad story!

(Although I do like to see you running rampant, Craig.)

Anyway, what is to come is probably silver.