It turns out 'flash fiction' is a wonderful thing for me. My first attempt grew into a 16k short story- and my best work yet in my opinion. My second offering is also growing and will likely become a novella if not a novel! I live the way these things work...
And now, without further ado, here is my latest offering...
What a Ride
By Mathilde Watson
“Hey! Are you even listening to me, boy?” The grumpy old truck driver with the handlebar mustache and rancid breath swatted at Cullen with his sweat stained cowboy hat, startling him out of his sleepy half-doze. Cullen glared across the cab of the truck, squinting against the afternoon sun that shone far too brightly on his dark mood and angry thoughts. Cullen looked over at his unpleasant travel companion and chuckled, once again taken by the short, stocky man’s resemblance to his favorite childhood hero. He could just see this guy getting in someone’s face, declaring himself to be “the Lorax” and demanding they back the hell off.
Cullen had always believed you could read a person’s character in their face, and his first impression of Wayne had been of a kind, fatherly figure. He’d jumped at the offer to ride across the country with him, trusting he was in good hands. Of course, before leaving home he’d also thought that your family loves you, no matter what- and that theory had been shot all to hell too.
Shaking his head Cullen tried to bring himself back to the here and now; no sense in dwelling on the past. “I’m sorry; w-w-what was that?” Cullen asked, pressing up against the door, trying to stay as far away from the other man as possible without being too obvious about it. It wouldn’t do to be tossed out on his ass now, only halfway to California.
“Aw, for god’s sake boy.” Wayne reached across the dash and fumbled with the radio dial; turning it on and scrolling through the channels. “The whole point in picking up hitchhikers is for the conversation, didn’t you know that? It figures I’d end up with some dumb fuck that can’t get out more than a few words without stammering and stuttering like an idiot.” The older man shoved his hat back onto his head and peered at Cullen out of the corner of his eye. “Ugly as sin too… say what happened to your face anyway? I’ll bet there’s a story there.”
Cullen swallowed hard and tried not to cringe. The truck driver was a heartless bastard, no doubt about that. “I w-was in a c-c-car ac-c-cid-cid…” Taking a deep breath Cullen continued, fighting back tears as he tried to finish his sentence. “…Crash. The w-windshield…” He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and angrily he brushed them away, shrugging and turning his face back to the window.
“All right, now, take it easy. Forget I asked!” Wayne muttered under his breath for a minute, tapping against the steering wheel and glaring out the window. Suddenly he smiled, winking at Cullen in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. “So you can’t talk for shit, so what? At least that sweet mouth of yours is good for something, eh?” Wayne laughed, punching Cullen in the shoulder. “A few more hours and you can put your mouth to better use, yeah? Give that tongue a better work out than just flapping it around anyway.”
Grinning, Wayne turned his attention back to the road, chucking at his own wit and fiddling with the radio. Cullen tried to swallow back the bile rising in his throat, tasting once again the lingering, bitter flavor of latex. So far he’d traded five blow-jobs for his passage from Massachusetts to… wherever they were now; Kansas, maybe? They were still miles away from California, two or three more days at least.
With a weary sigh Cullen pressed his face against the cool glass of the passenger window and closed his eyes, already dreading their next stop...
The End... For now...
Be sure and check out what my fellow flashers are up to!!
Nephylim m/m
Sara York m/m
Lindsay Klug m/f
Victoria Blisse m/f
Pender Mackie m/m
Julie Lynn Hayes m/m
