A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday
Images from the net
By John Yeo
Visiting hours strictly between 2pm and 4pm
Sandy switched gears and climbed a slight incline, the snowy terrain was rough and stretched for miles with the edges of the forest in the near distance. The wind was howling as the truck sped along when a blustery gust picked up some loose particles from a bank of snow at the side of the track. At that moment a shadowy figure loomed up in front of the truck, Sandy never hesitated jumping hard on the brakes and clutch, forcing the truck to slide into a long skid, narrowly avoiding a large elk that was ambling along the road. The truck skidded forward, and came to a halt as Sandy re-assumed control; then the radio burst into life,
“Base here, come in 45. Base to 45, over, are you there Sandy?”
“Yup! What is it?”
“How long before you get here?” Came the tinny voice of the controller.
“About 45 minutes,” Sandy replied.
“Good! We will all meet up at the usual Saturday evening place!”
“OK!” Sandy replied grinning from ear to ear. “I’m looking forward to that!”
Please ring the bell to alert the staff before entering.
Sandy parked the truck in a lot and went to her home to change to go to the Saturday night dance.
Sandy looked stunning in a full-length blue gown with a turquoise necklace and earrings to match.
Heading for the cloakroom when she reached the bright lights of the dance hall, she suddenly realized she had picked up the wrong bag. The cloakroom attendant came to her rescue with the loan of a hairbrush.
Just then the orchestra began playing a quickstep and the dance floor filled with dancers, a big man, wearing a smart black suit with a red bow tie approached her and asked for a dance. Sandy smiled and got up, and soon they were moving around the dance floor in time to the music.
“I’m Joe! Pleased to meet you, I’m new here. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Sandy, nice to meet you too. You are light on your feet, are you a professional dancer?”
Whirling around the floor without a care in the world, both partners were soon overcome by the seductive dance music and with each other. A foxtrot followed a waltz, and Sandy was soon entranced by the magic of the moment.
A little later Joe, suddenly left Sandy on the dance floor and wrestled a man to the floor.
“He was stealing your bag, Sandy,” handing her a large cloth bag he had retrieved.
“Thanks, Joe, it’s only a bag of wool, I bought the wrong bag out!”
Grandma clutched her knitting needles and sat in the corner of the lounge Dreamily watching television, Strictly Come Dancing, and an episode of Ice Truckers was vying for her attention before the nurse came in with her afternoon tea.
Lights out at exactly 9pm.
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved
This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements
- Place: on a dance floor
- Character: an ice trucker
- Object: a bag of wool
- Weather: blustery
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