Simple Flash Fiction During Irma

This week’s wordle from The Sunday Whirl… 

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He pushed the car as far as he could, his teen daughter at the wheel, and had just managed to get it to the main road from the beach when a big old truck pulled up behind them and a man climbed down to ask what their trouble was.

“Just out of gas. Just exactly the wrong time to be out of gas.”

“Well,” said the man, “most all of the stations have run out or closed up shop, but you’re in luck – I got some jugs filled. They’re in back.”

The jug of gas the man handed down from the truck had no pour-spout, so he twisted a laminated map into a funnel. Soon enough they had enough in the tank to make it to the shelter at least. He thanked the man again and again.

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome,” said the man. “We’re right in the path now. Storm’s gonna sweep this whole area. This beach will be ground zero. Best get moving.”

What relief, to feel the engine wake, the car’s power surge to life, the wheels begin to spin.

“Everything’s going to be alright, honey,” he said. “Buckle up.”

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