PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn M. Miller
Desmond starting signing the song, “Bridge over troubled water.”
“I hate bridges,” Chastity interrupted.
“It’s getting us to the other side. Be thankful. What if you were alone when that old car broke down? Out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Just know, Desmond, when we get to civilization, we go our separate ways. I didn’t leave John just to be harnessed to another guy.”
“You are quite progressive for 1972.”
“Better late than never,” she mumbled, missing his point.
Desmond had no tricks up his sleeve. Is that why she enlisted his help? He braced himself for goodbye.
~98 words (story only)
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