Unseen and Unspoken [Flash Fiction]

I fill my lungs with the old car’s new smell. The seatbelt hugs me against some invisible danger. I’m lost as he drives recklessly through familiar roads. My half-closed eyes stare at his wide-eyed anticipation; lust seeps from his smile. I try to keep from vomiting – I tried. Alcohol pours from my mouth, profanities from his. The car veers hard to the right.

I crawl out of the car, pain in my head and vomit in my hair. I worm away as far as I can and look up to a sky as black as the asphalt I lay on.


Word count: 100
This piece was a lazy attempt at an exact 100 word count drabble. I may have gone overboard with my descriptions in an attempt to paint a picture and it may have backfired.


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