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Sunday, February 7, 2010

February drabbles - 7

“Turn left,” says he.

“How far is it now?”

“Be less if you turned the right way.” His eyes start to frown.

Her fingers tense round the steering wheel as she feels him rejecting her skills, the glorious sparkle of her diamond fading to dusk.

Downhill and slow; musk-scented trees bow low to the engine’s murmur, darkening the sky while heaven’s diamonds shine, above the world so high…

“Turn left,” says he.

And, “How far is it now?” So he sighs. She stops the car.

“Turn my way.” She turns. He plants a kiss. And rejection flies far far away.

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