#SwiftFicFriday, #SwiftFicFriday - Winners, Musings

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 118 Winner!

Happy Tuesday!

David A Ludwig (@DavidALudwig) flew the highest this week and takes his nineteenth win!

Check out his story below and congratulate him on Twitter.

Congrats on your #SwiftFicFriday win @DavidALudwig! Check out his flash piece and show him some love #WritingCommunity

It was easy enough to explain disappearances on the old interstate. The desert road was remote and barely maintained on a two-year cycle. If anyone remembered and the budget allowed it. There was a fair chance that anyone driving this way meant to disappear.

The sudden chill on a sunny summer afternoon suggested something more sinister. Clarisse cursed as her jeep shuddered and rumbled. She pulled over to the shoulder. If some spook had messed with her baby, it would be the last mistake they ever made.

The country blonde stepped out onto the desolate highway and shouldered her shotgun. A fogbank rolled over the road, consuming the recently clear day. A figure formed in the fog ahead.

“Come to me.”

The woman’s choked plea permeated the fog and rang in Clarisse’s ears. Clarisse walked toward the vague vision. All she felt was the fog, and the voice had come from all around. Dark hair and dark eyes. The woman was pretty enough. Though Clarisse didn’t care for the sorrow-red around her eyes.

“Come with me,” the woman spread her arms, relief flooding her eyes of shadow and blood.

The woman’s embrace was soft. Gentle. If Clarisse hadn’t been paying attention, she might have even thought it was warm. The woman pulled them through the mist to the most perfect pastoral paradise Clarisse had ever imagined.

“I can take away all your pain.”

The woman’s sympathetic smile sickened Clarisse. People carried on carefree lives in a small town around the pristine highway. This could have been going on for decades. A little weathered roadside cross didn’t fit the aesthetic. One with a crystal pendant identical to the one the woman was wearing.

“Life is pain, sugar,” Clarisse pointed her shotgun at the cross. “And I’m keepin’ mine.”


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