100 word fiction contest continues…. #100WFC
with illustration by Wayfarer
Man without a plan, rabblerouser without a pause, I set out to ride one last time before winter sets in. Clear skies lighted up, straight, almost empty highway. Next beer at State line I thought.
A siren blasted behind me as my Fatboy touched 120 mph.
“Papers,” officer says. As he searched me for drugs, I noticed his car had bad blinkers. I stared at them and he caught my line of sight. He grunted as if to dare me to mention it.
“Will that be all officer?” I asked.
He retorted, “Limit yourself. Doesn’t have to be Vegas or bust!” and closed his book.
I got the drift and got away.
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