Written for Fandango’s Story Starter
which is shown below.
Here’s where the prompt line took me.
He found her sitting on the curb outside the restaurant, a paramedic crouched beside her. Ray pushed through the small crowd that bad luck always seems to draw. When Carol lifted her head, Ray barely recognized her due to the bruises. And in the half-second before his concern flooded in, something cold and ancient moved through him. A fury so clean it frightened him. He took her hand and didn’t let go.
“I’m okay,” she said, which was exactly what she would say.
They’d taken her purse. Sixty dollars, a library card, the lipstick she’d had forever because she was afraid she’d never find the same color again. She was more upset about the lipstick than anything, and Ray loved her so much in that moment he couldn’t speak.
The police came and went. The paramedic signed off. The crowd dissolved back into the ordinary city night.
Later, in the car, Carol rested her head against the window and watched the streetlights pass. Ray drove and said nothing, because there was nothing useful to say. His hands were steady on the wheel.
The cold and ancient thing settled deep inside Ray …. quiet now, but persistent.
It would wait there until the animal that did this was found.
NAR©2026
#FSS
Fandango’s Prompt: When Carol lifted her head, Ray barely recognized her due to the bruises.
This is “Mean Streets” by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
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