Aslynn shivers as the chilly night air whips across her skin and tangles her long hair. She should have worn a jacket, but then again, she has more important things on her mind, like finding someone who can help fix her car or maybe borrow someone's cell phone or hell, track down someone who can help her find her car. She's practically running, as she crosses the block and turns left at the corner. Her car is still nowhere in sight. This sucks, she thinks bitterly. She's ended up in a twisted maze and can't find the exit sign...
"Come on Jodie. It'll be fun."
Heather and Michelle were currently going through a green protest stage. Both just turned twenty, they got a kick out of going out and protesting for various causes. The rights and wrongs weren't really their concern. The chance to protest was the thing.
The rap of her boot heels echoing off the concrete walls was the only sound as she walked down the long line of cars, looking for where she'd parked. She'd been sure this was the row—13-D—but where was her car? She shifted her bags to her left hand where the black leather glove would keep the handles from biting into her and looked back over her shoulder through her blonde hair. Perhaps she'd walked past it? But there was no red Peugeot.
I'd flown through Germany a few times in the past but this time I'd decided to actually stopover and have a look around. My flight arrived in Frankfurt mid-afternoon on a Friday and as soon as I got in my hire car I found myself in gridlock traffic. I waded through it as the afternoon settled in and the rain clouds built up. By evening the city gave way to rolling green hills and I was on a motorway heading god knows where.
I'd been out with the tractor half the day and was now taking it back to where we keep the heavy machinery. Several of the farms had chipped in for the big stuff and we stored it in a common lot at the back of the farms. The only way to reach this common lot was via a narrow private road that ran between the farms and dead ended at the machinery compound.
Two months later I walked out the prison a free man. I enjoyed the bus ride to my hometown. My mother was surprise when she saw me standing on her porch.
We sat and talked before the front door slammed open. My sister ran over almost knocking me down.
"You're ass better be home for good!" She yelled as she ran up the steps.
"Oh, my God!" The voice was my ex-girlfriend Gloria. "Why didn't you call me when you were on you way home?"