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.

©coversonyourbed

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.

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