Aussie Summer

 You’re driving alone through the Northern Territory in the Tennant Creek/Barkly Region when your car runs out of petrol. Do you sit and wait or do you walk to find a petrol station? It’s summer, you’re hot and it’s late. The temperature has cooled down quite a bit however you’re not used to the Australian summer and are feeling dehydrated. You decide to brave it and go for a wander, you take what you can carry and set off using a map with circled areas where petrol stations are supposed to be. According to the map, the closest station is Barrow Creek.

 It’s not yet dark but the sun is disappearing. You feel like you have been walking for hours when you come across a flashing sign, it reads: AUSSIE SUMMER. The sign is the nicest thing about this old run down place but relieved and exhausted, you enter. To your surprise it didn’t look nearly half as bad as the outside, jukebox playing Rolf Harris, tables set out, fridges stocked with assorted brands and flavours… almost like a dream. 

 You place your belongings down at a table and look around, there’s no shopkeeper. “Must be out back,” you think to yourself as you make your way to a fridge stocked with your favourite beverage, Coca-Cola. Just as you open the door and reach in for a frosty can, the jukebox suddenly shuts off… A chill runs up your spine, you begin to feel nervous. Still no sign of a living being, you start to call out to see if anybody is about but all remains silent, deadly silent. The jukebox switches back on.

 Freaked out, you think it’s best to leave. Grabbing your stuff at a frantic pace, you head for the door like you’re trying to outrun a bad guy in a horror film. The lights go out. You stumble into a chair causing you to sprawl onto the hard ground. Picking yourself up like there is no tomorrow, the lights come back on and the door appears to have a deadlock. 

“Not trying to steal that are ya?” 

 A warm sensation trickles down your left knee, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your chest feels heavy. Turning around ever so slowly you see a red-headed woman standing behind the counter, pointing at the can of Coke in your left hand. Without saying a word you place the can on a nearby table and turn to the exit. A man with greasy blue overalls with a crooked grin now stands in front of the rusted door. 

The lights switch off.