Hitting the road at last, Rosie picked up her blood-filled sandals, taking one last look back. The hot tarmac felt soothing against bare, sore skin. Comforted to feel anything at all, she thanked god for the solitary motorcycle, unseen as it roared by and away into the distance.
The signs made no sense. The roadside SOS phone failed. This was no safe place to stop and rest but still, she stood, safe for now. Not even a bird calling, not even a breeze to rustle the leaves, just deafening silence and what might be a very long road to nowhere.
[100 words, text is original work, ©Colette Bates, 2016]