S T O R Y E I G H T:
Skidding. She was skidding out of control. The smell of rubber, heat rising in the front seat, and the screeching sounds of the tires on pavement.
And the fear that pounded in her chest. The fear that poisoned her body and shook her hands. She was turning the wheel like mad, trying to straighten her car out as the speedometer dropped too slowly.
The wall in front of her was fast approaching, a reminder of what awaited.
In her final moment, she moved her hands away from the wheel and looked up, breathing out her final, desperate words.
"I'm sorry."
YOU ARE READING
100 Word Stories
Short StoryFlash Fiction ● A form of fiction that "communicates via caesuras and crevices. There is no asking more, no premise of comprehensiveness, because flash fiction is a form that privileges excision over agglomeration."
