Tuesday 29 July 2008

The Road

"Please, let him be dead," she thought.
Anna stared into her rear-view mirror and could just make out a shape on the ground, half-merged with the shadows. The windscreen wipers continued to punch their rhythm, catching with a screech at the bottom of each down-stroke. She watched the rain's futile attempts to colonise the windscreen.
"Just let him be dead."