As per the blog hop photo prompt on Wednesday, below are the photos and my flash-fiction story entry that goes with them. Enjoy!
“I am so thirsty. How long have we been walking?” asked Megan.
John stopped and looked up at the sky. “About an hour. My watch isn’t working for some reason, but the sun is directly above us, which means it’s probably around noon. We started walking around 11.”
“How do you know it was 11 if your watch isn’t working?” asked Megan.
“That’s what the clock in the car said just before we broke down,” said John. He started walking again with Megan close behind him.
“This totally sucks. Where do you think this path leads anyway?” Megan asked.
“I was thinking it would lead to a house. Maybe we can use the phone and call a tow truck or something.”
“I don’t know. I think we should go back to the road. All I see are mountains.”
“Meg. You gotta trust me,” John said, irritation tinging his tone.
“I trust my instinct more, Johnathan. My gut says we need to go back and follow the road to the next rest area. We’ll figure out what to do from there. Plus, I am so thirsty.”
John walked ahead in silence. This wasn’t working out how he’d hoped. He should’ve paid attention to the damn check engine light when he’d had the chance. Maybe today was a sign. Maybe they weren’t ready for the next step.
“Why are you so mad?” asked Meg. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
“I just got stuff on my mind.”
“’k. Well, do have any water in your pack. I’m pretty sure I am going to die of thirst.”
“No, I just have some stuff I picked up for my mom. Salt, dryer sheets, and stuff,” he said, “nothing that will help us.”
They walked in silence for a while longer, the mountains growing closer and the tension mounting between them.
“Johnathan, I don’t think this is working out,” Megan said quietly.
John looked over his shoulder at Meg. She was walking with her head down.
“Meg, don’t worry. We’ll be fine. I’ll get us out of this mess.”
“No. I mean us. I don’t think this… I mean us. I don’t think you and I are working out anymore,” said Meg.
John stopped. He turned to face his girlfriend of two years. Her long chestnut hair was piled on top of her head in a wild bun; wisps of loose strands stuck to the sides of her suntanned cheeks. Sadness shadowed her green eyes as she looked at him waiting for a response.
John sighed and took her hand. He kneeled in front of her. “I know. Something isn’t right but I want it to be right.”
A tear streaked down Meg’s face. John unzipped his back pack and pulled out a velvet box. He opened it and showed Meg the ring inside.
“Like I said, just some salt and stuff in my pack. Nothing that will help us.”
“Johnathan. Can we please turn back to the road? I’m so thirsty,” whispered Meg, tears now quietly streaming down her cheeks.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go back.”