159

Given an honorable mention by the Five Stop Story competition Oct 2011.

Cars were crying in the road. Sorrowful Mazdas sobbed shrilly, tears collecting in their bumpers, while smaller vehicles, one Ford Ka in particular, let out piercing bouts of electronic histrionics. It was the rain, throwing moist boulders down to street level, lolloping parcels of saliva from a heavenly mouth that slooped on contact with metal roofs, boots and bonnets. Despite the screeching, Karen would have given anything to be in a car right now. Continue reading “159”