Emily: Stranded (Fiction)

Emily tapped her foot angrily. How could Chris do this to her? He knew he was supposed to pick her up at 3 from the welfare office. She could only hope that he was delayed by a new job. After 20 minutes, she picked up her bag and started walking. She hated her heavy, pregnant body, that made everything that used to be a joy into a chore.

She trudged down the road, grumbling to herself. Suddenly she heard, “Can I help you, miss?” She turned to see a car pulled up beside her. The man inside was middle-aged and balding, but his eyes were kind.

Emily smiled despite herself. “Oh, no thank you. I’m fine.” The man shrugged, like it was no big deal. But he didn’t pull the car back into the driving lane and speed off. He stayed right behind Emily, idling along. She felt sick.

Suddenly she found all that running energy from before pregnancy. She sprinted down the road, listening to the car rev behind her. She swung into the police station, panting.

The officer at the desk eyed her. “Can I help you, miss?” she said.

“A man was following me in a car,” panted out Emily.

The officer frowned and went to the glass doors of the entrance. Then she gasped, “Run!” and bolted back towards Emily, dragging her through a door just as the front entrance exploded in glass.

To be continued . . .

{These vignettes were inspired by prompts at Daily Writing Practice. Go ahead and visit and see what other amazing writing is going on.}

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