Saturday, December 8, 2012

Home run

McFarlane jumped the ditch, scrabbling up the steep bank, clutching at sodden grass and weeds.  A fence topped with barbed wire skirted the crest.  He clambered over, snagging his filthy jeans, then set off at a canter across a broad field towards a gateway and the road beyond.  Headlights danced along the hedgerow.  He dropped to the sticky soil, heart thumping like a bass drum.  The car disappeared, fading to a low hum, then silence.  He savoured the moment, then rose and set off again, trotting through the crop.  He’d made it.  Freedom.

Behind him a siren started to wail.  

A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words


Anonymous said...

Oh, nicely done, Rob! I like the way you evoke the fear as he's escaping.

Keen Reader said...

'Tentatively' doesn't sound quite right.

Rob Kitchin said...

You're right. I've tweaked it slightly. Thanks.