Me. You. Coffee.

“I really wish you’d slow down.”

Sam regretted the words immediately as the torque of the engine pulled her stomach tight against the bucket seats.

“Steve!”

His knuckles were white at this point and his eyes looked dry as they fixated on the horizon, flitting occasionally as objects of distraction came and went in a blur.

Above the roar of the road Sam could swear she heard Steve’s teeth grinding.

“I’m not sorry,” she gulped. “I needed you but you hid. You didn’t answer. He did.”

“It’s yours.”

His gaze softened. His grip relaxed. Then, he let go.

“We’re done.”

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Today’s photo offers a sense of speed and frustration to me. In fact, as good an image as it is I find it hard to look at as it pulses and feels erratic. Nice work, Roger.

Read More

Written as part of Friday Fictioneers. Read more at the link and enjoy the offerings based on Roger Bultot’s photo this week.