It was dusk, quickly darkening. L.A. Woman belted out with me singing along unrestrainedly until I became aware of the car following me. I didn’t know how long they’d been on my tail. I slowed and they flashed their lights. The road was deserted. Why didn’t they overtake? A knot of fear settled in my stomach inching into my throat. They were blowing their horn at me now and shaking their fists. I sped up. They followed. Too fast. Stop and ring the police. They stopped too. Two men alighted. A scream rose from my bowels.
“Your boot’s open Miss.”
In case boot is not the common term I believe trunk is used in some places.
Rochelle hosts Friday Fictioneers each week. All are welcome to join in and write a 100 word flash, then add their link via the blue frog found on her site. Otherwise use the blue frog to see other people’s responses to the photo prompt which this week is courtesy of the reclining gentleman.