By Angie D
The bike’s front wheel was still spinning when the driver ran to help, but the cyclist lay motionless. She’d come out of nowhere. The night was moonless; the road narrow and deserted.
His heart told him to “Call 111 and move her into the recovery position!”
His head screamed, “Run!” replaying his heated words, the three large red wines he’d imbibed after, and his past record.
He usually followed his heart.
Two weeks later, he returned in the dead of night. He wondered if he should have followed his heart. Then he placed some carnations by the roadside.
She’d hated carnations.
Wow- delivers a knock-out punch!
Nice twist 🙂
What a twist at the end! Great!