#PhotoStoryChallenge – Lonely Roads

Photo by Radina Valova


 

“No.”

“Wait-what?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, have you forgotten how to English? Here: neinnyet, non, iie, bu. Are those any better?”

I looked at Sarah, sitting so prim and proper on the broken down doorstep of a former roadside shop, and sighed. “Fine.” I dropped down to sit next to her and instantly regretted it as my ass informed me that it had found a multitude of rusty nails and sharp pebbles. I grimaced but ignored the pinpricks of pain to focus on the more important pain in the ass. “If not here, then where?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah kicked at the ground, sending a plume of dust into the air. “Anywhere.”

“Anywhere, but here.”

She shrugged.

The customer is always right.’ I reminded myself. Leaning back on my hands, I stared up at the jagged hills lining the road. They tried so hard to look like mountains, but all I could see was a bunch of try hards and failed wannabes. I sighed again and stood up.

“Alright. You win. We’ll try somewhere else.” I shook my head at the grateful smile she sent my way, and headed back to my rental car. I could hear her footsteps as she scrambled to catch up with me. I waited until she was in her own car before pulling off the shoulder, leading her further into the country side.

I suppose, if I was going to pick a place to die, I, too, could think of better places to be killed than on this lonely road.

One comment

  • I already said this on twitter, but I LOVE this!! Especially the final line: “I, too, could think of better places to be killed than on this lonely road.” Beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s