This week's prompt scared me. I thought I would have to write a romance. My mind froze as I stared at this picture:
Then, a country music song began to play in my head. Not a real one--I am decidedly NOT a country music fan. I realized, finally, that it was my way out of this dilemma. So, with my tongue firmly in my cheek, I present this week's entry.
Her Favorite Song
Julie's tires squeal as she takes the corner too fast. She wipes away a tear with the back of her hand, and shakes the hair out of her eyes. She told herself she wouldn't—no, shouldn't cry. Her heart races, her foot stomps down, and the engine races.
She isn't running away from anything, or running to anywhere. She just feels the need to move. As fast as possible. She knows she will have to face what she did, but that can come later. Right now, though, she feels the wheels hum beneath her in perfect time with her favorite song as it comes on the radio. She sings along.
He asked for one more last chance. But how many can you stand? He begged you on his knees But you fear his closed hand. The heart that says I Love You Can't erase the pain. He's a good man when he's good, But worse than bad when he ain't. "'I love you' ain't enough," Mother says to son. "Apoligizin' don't mean nothin' After the hurtin's done." A little stuffed heart Hanging from the mirror, Swinging as you race away. Your fears never felt nearer. "'I love you' ain't enough," Mother says to son. "Apoligizin' don't mean nothin' After the hurtin's done." Now you're off and running, But not from him anymore. He can't hurt you where he's lying Dead and bloody on the floor. "'I love you' ain't enough," Mother says to son. "Apoligizin' don't mean nothin' After the hurtin's done."
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she drives into the night.