The Drive of her Life ... Part One
As she breasted the last blind summit, a truck appeared. The massive winch chain, usually secured to the rear of the skip lorry, rocketed out, brushing the hedgerow opposite. It hung motionless at the apex of its swing, shimmering in the bright spring sunshine before swinging back with terrible inevitability as her car propelled her directly into its path: Ohmygodno! It’s coming straight for me! It’s gonna crash through my window, and smash my brains out. She froze, heart pounding with fear, hands glued to the steering wheel, unable to look away from the chain’s momentum ....
Her eyes bulged with horror as the massive claw like hook filled her vision. Her stomach muscles clenched; a hot burning sensation flooded her crotch as miraculously the solid weight clunked loudly against metal, before sweeping over her car’s roof.
Somehow she managed to keep control, even indicating before bumping onto the grassy verge bordering the lorry depot’s service road. Tiny pinpricks of black grew and magnified until they smothered her world. When she came to her senses the bright promising morning had given way to a sunless twilight. That bastard! He hadn’t even stopped!
‘I’ll have his license. I’ll have this bloody dump shut down.’ She screeched into the gathering darkness, working up a towering rage, ready to confront the manager of the skip hire company. Unable to risk another deadly encounter she left her car parked up. Anger lent wings to her feet; grounded glass fragments, scrap metal pieces and debris dusted with a light powdering of snow littered the lane leading to the skip lorry yard but she barely noticed as she marched arms swinging and legs still pumping with adrenaline. Thank goodness she’d been driving the Passat, built like a German tank.
She gave a satisfied grunt as the depot loomed into sight. Welcoming this confrontation, needing to vent at someone. I could have been killed. I could be dead right now! The thought made her bones melt. The warehouse come office was in darkness. A couple of terrier sized rats squabbled on the metal weighbridge which dipped crazily towards one corner. For a second she faltered, the eerie solitude causing goosebumps to creep across her flesh. The lorries must all be out on their rounds. There must be office staff still here. Hiding from her, their own vehicles tucked safely round the back away from careless truckers.
She shouted up at the building, unwilling to peer into one of those grimy windows, unseeing eyes staring out. Her voice sounded high pitched and unnatural, echoing into the silence.
Sobbing with frustration, she turned to stagger back up the lane, pausing to let out a shriek of rage, howling at the moon. The Passat waited patiently. A trick of the silvery light transformed it momentarily into a ghost car. Slipping behind the steering wheel she twisted the ignition key, and as always the engine roared into life. With a grim smile she popped the gears into first and prepared to go hunting.
Back in the deserted warehouse a tramp clutched his army greatcoat even tighter around him. Telling himself once more he hadn’t heard the screams of a woman, swearing vengeance on the unfortunate driver who’d taken her face along with her life nearly a year ago.
If you enjoyed this flash fiction, you can read part two here: The Drive of her Life Part Two.
Her eyes bulged with horror as the massive claw like hook filled her vision. Her stomach muscles clenched; a hot burning sensation flooded her crotch as miraculously the solid weight clunked loudly against metal, before sweeping over her car’s roof.
Somehow she managed to keep control, even indicating before bumping onto the grassy verge bordering the lorry depot’s service road. Tiny pinpricks of black grew and magnified until they smothered her world. When she came to her senses the bright promising morning had given way to a sunless twilight. That bastard! He hadn’t even stopped!
‘I’ll have his license. I’ll have this bloody dump shut down.’ She screeched into the gathering darkness, working up a towering rage, ready to confront the manager of the skip hire company. Unable to risk another deadly encounter she left her car parked up. Anger lent wings to her feet; grounded glass fragments, scrap metal pieces and debris dusted with a light powdering of snow littered the lane leading to the skip lorry yard but she barely noticed as she marched arms swinging and legs still pumping with adrenaline. Thank goodness she’d been driving the Passat, built like a German tank.
She gave a satisfied grunt as the depot loomed into sight. Welcoming this confrontation, needing to vent at someone. I could have been killed. I could be dead right now! The thought made her bones melt. The warehouse come office was in darkness. A couple of terrier sized rats squabbled on the metal weighbridge which dipped crazily towards one corner. For a second she faltered, the eerie solitude causing goosebumps to creep across her flesh. The lorries must all be out on their rounds. There must be office staff still here. Hiding from her, their own vehicles tucked safely round the back away from careless truckers.
She shouted up at the building, unwilling to peer into one of those grimy windows, unseeing eyes staring out. Her voice sounded high pitched and unnatural, echoing into the silence.
Sobbing with frustration, she turned to stagger back up the lane, pausing to let out a shriek of rage, howling at the moon. The Passat waited patiently. A trick of the silvery light transformed it momentarily into a ghost car. Slipping behind the steering wheel she twisted the ignition key, and as always the engine roared into life. With a grim smile she popped the gears into first and prepared to go hunting.
Back in the deserted warehouse a tramp clutched his army greatcoat even tighter around him. Telling himself once more he hadn’t heard the screams of a woman, swearing vengeance on the unfortunate driver who’d taken her face along with her life nearly a year ago.
If you enjoyed this flash fiction, you can read part two here: The Drive of her Life Part Two.
Julia's debut novel, described as 'beautifully creative' is available now from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk. Julia can be found tweeting under the name @Tinkertoldmeto. Or friend Julia Hughes on Goodreads, because it's good to talk.
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A Ripple in Time on Amazon.com
A Ripple in Time on Amazon.co.uk
Quick links to:
Goodreads
Facebook fan page
A Ripple in Time on Amazon.com
A Ripple in Time on Amazon.co.uk