Emily: The Wreckage (fiction)

Emily sighed as she answered the questions for the fifth time. No, she had no idea who the man was. No, she had no idea why anyone would want her dead. No, she had no idea what was going on. Her assailant had apparently told the police quite a pretty tale, but none of it made sense to Emily. She wondered where Chris was and feared the worst.

She decided to do what she did best and run from the wreckage of her life. Leaving a cryptic note for Chris just in case he were still in a position to find it someday (she couldn’t bring herself to actually think of the words dead and alive in connection with him), she slipped out of town as soon as it was dark. Obviously, London had followed her to the edge of Wales and she hadn’t fled far enough before. This time, she was headed to Ireland.

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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3 Comments

  1. Emily: The Brute (fiction) « Lizbeth's Garden
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