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Internet User Stories

Volvo Owner

The long, slow drag of the thick metal chain and the tick of the diesel relentlessly dragged the mass of steel and comfortable rubber-plastic out of the water. No great smash of water pounding water did anyone hear, but the slow trickle and motion of diminutive pour upon the greater body related his emergence from the lake. The door closed, his belt wound itself around him, hugging him close to his seat. Still, he leaned forward, his eyes down-directed.

“I can't see his face. I mean, his features are so bloated I can't see what he looks like.”

© 2014 by Kirk A. Shellko a.k.a. Lucian Whyte