The car contained the heat, held it in place.
Their legs stuck to the hot vinyl seats.
The ’65 Cutlass had been sitting in the gravel parking lot by the lake.
In the still air, the fuzzy dice didn’t move.
Carnival winnings last year
Now they were inside, sipping warm beer, trying to decide what to do.
What to do… next.
What to do about… each other.
What to do about… life.
His nose was sunburned and peeling. Her freckles stood out more than ever.
Buddy sang on the radio.
That’ll Be The Day.
The steering wheel was round and smooth in his hands.
He turned the key.
The motor debated, then roared to life.
She flicked her hair behind her as the gravel crunched.
© Mark V. Krajnak 2012 | All Rights Reserved
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