Friday Fictioneers: Never Driving Again


Palms press against my ears, eyes squeeze shut, I sit paralyzed in the driver seat while my sister, Susan, paces outside, spilling expletives like a waterfall. For a moment, I think about spending the rest of my life (despite being only sixteen) riding the bus.

It isn’t too bad, I think, might even be cheaper than owning a car.

A loud knock jolts me from my thoughts, “You, get out here and survey the damage.” Susan orders.

Slowly, I step out of the car, after one glance, I immediately want to crawl back into the car. I’m never driving again.

(100 Words)

For Friday Fictioneers

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26 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: Never Driving Again

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