Cindy T


This was exactly why he had never liked boats. There wasn’t a boat made, in his estimation, that was “beamy” enough for him. But this wasn’t a boat. It just had the bad qualities of a boat, except for the seasickness thing. The air already felt hot and stale. At least a boat would come with the possibility of coming up for some fresh salt air. He should know – he’d hurled over the side of boats often enough. But at least that was better than this.

The day hadn’t started out half bad, really. An easy and marginally lucrative day at Bob’s, expectations for a great time shooting pool and drinking beer with Steve. He was lucky to be alive, really, but he was about ready to swear that the car was getting smaller. He had been forced to drive a “loaner” car when his convertible had blown a transmission. The loaner smelled like a loaner – not like the new car leather smell of his car, with plenty of salt air with the top down. No, this loaner was now his tomb. He would definitely die here. If it hadn’t been for the damn rabbit, he cursed himself. He’d never do that again, that’s for sure. But it was in his nature to save lives, not take them. The rabbit hopped right in front of him. It was only natural that he’d swerve to miss hitting it.

He tried the windows again. Nothing. The door wouldn’t budge. And with his legs pinned, he really couldn’t do much else, even if he had been upside up. Why had he taken this stupid back road? Country life was not all it was cracked up to be… Steve would notice he was late. He’d probably cuss a little, then worry a little, then call his house, then call Mark, and then he’d really worry. Jesse knew that could all take some time. “HELP!” he yelled ineffectually, worried that the numbness in his legs might actually indicate more damage than he’d at first thought. Then again, since he was sure he was suffocating, he couldn’t trust his own judgment. “HELP!” he yelled again, surprised there was any air left at all.

Miraculously, he heard a crunching in the brush. An animal? His heart hammered in his chest. “HEL—“

The beam of light hit him square in the eyes. “Jesse? You okay?” Steve’s concerned voice yelled.

“Get me out of here! Damn rabbits!”

By Cindy T

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