Sharp Tones for a FlatPosted: July 19, 2015
Karen kicked her dry, dusty feet up and out, onto the side mirror of the convertible. The wind was hot; it turned her long hair into a massive rat’s nest, but for once, she didn’t care. The sun glinted off her dark glasses as she gazed out toward the horizon, trying to guess how many miles she could see. She wondered how close to reality fifty was.
Timothy drove confidently, hands at ten and two when he wasn’t pushing buttons on the radio, trying to find a station they could listen to for more than ten minutes without losing the signal. The pursuit was in vain. They were just too far into the middle of nowhere. He snapped it off, and Karen turned her head to look, a questioning eyebrow raised.
“Nothing to listen to,” he said.
The wheel jerked in Timothy’s hands as a loud bang assaulted their ears. Timothy groaned, knowing they’d just had a blowout. When he pulled the spare out and dropped it on the shoulder, he knew they were in trouble. It was flat as a pancake.
“We haven’t seen anyone else on the road in forever, babe,” Karen pointed out. “Who knows how long we’ll have to wait for help, with no signal and no spare? Whose idea was this trip, anyway?”
“You know we agreed on it, Karen. And we’ll be just fine. We have plenty of food and water, and you know this won’t be the first time we’ve slept in the car,” Timothy replied, a little testily.
Karen winked at him. “I’m just picking on you. I know we’ll enjoy this trip even if we sit right here four days, and have to turn right around and go home when we finally do get a tire.”
They only had to wait 23 minutes for a sheriff with a pump, and since air was all they needed, they were back on the road in a jiffy.
This mission was practically impossible for me. Only 300 words? Argh. Steps 1 and 2 complete!