Ficlets

Go West

“Depends,” he said, sucking on the toothpick that hung from his mouth. “How much farther you intend on driving?”

I hadn’t thought of that. I hadn’t really thought much of anything since leaving town last night. The bag in the back was all I could focus on. The shoes made a good distraction, the discarded mess on the side of the road as we went west, chased by the sun and hopefully nothing more.

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