She was sick of him and told him so. He
slapped her. She threw a flip-flop at his truck as he sped off then
walked a mile before a car pulled over.
“Hey, Laura right? Remember me? Jerry.”
She leaned in
the window. “Got any money Jerry? I’m thirsty.”
He
patted the 6-pack beside him. “Join me for a cold one?”
“Your car got air-conditioning?” She lifted her bare foot off
the pavement. “I can’t stand this heat.”
“I got a free room, air-conditioning and a pool. My brother
clerks at the Motor Inn.”
She climbed in. She tossed her other flip-flop out the window;
it bounced along the highway until it landed in the ditch.
© Ann Hoffman 2009
