by Lucile McKenzie
The car kept pace with Tracy as she walked quickly down the dark sidewalk, the driver insisting, “Come on, pretty lady, let’s go for a ride.” She walked faster, looking straight ahead as she tried to ignore him. When the car stopped and the driver’s door opened, she ran. She reached her house, dashed inside and locked the door, as the driver called, “Aw, come on, baby, you know you want a ride with me.” She sighed with relief when she heard the car drive away. Later that night rough hands jerked her from her bed and a hard voice said, “Now we’re going to take that ride.”
Lucile McKenzie writes both fiction and non-fiction. She likes to write flash fiction because she's blessed with a short attention span.