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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Submitted: August 05, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 05, 2018



Sometimes the way the moonlight bounced off the clear coated of the car made him believe in something greater than humanity, something alien, something fantastical. With the sunroof open, the moonlight warmed the tops of his head with a familiar, lonely ache. He sped down the highway, loosening his tie as he hit a curve. A long day only to be followed by a long night; he was sure Charlie hadn’t done his chores yet, a boy lost in the defiance of teenage years, the freedom, the arrogance, just as his mother before him. Diane, a loose cannon, a woman with no boundaries, no regard for her life, thoughts, beliefs—it was the rack that attracted him, and the curves, the sensual puffiness of her natural lips, their velvet red color. Some days he wished he hadn’t fallen under such a trance.

Night drives were peace. They were confirmation that he did exist, that life moved forward, that stagnation lay in his head, that the ache in his bones came from something else, from some deep seeded truth he couldn’t face. He gathered solace from the deep hum of the engine against the night’s silence. Another glance at the moon, the rainbow ring along the outer rim mesmerizing for just a moment, just long enough for his car to veer slightly over the double yellow line. He wondered if the moon got as lonely as him, even with all the stars. If so, he knew the feeling well. 

© Copyright 2019 A.D. Ware. All rights reserved.

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