You have been warned
Writing Prompt No. 63
Brett heard the scrape and crunch of metal before he saw the car.
He knew what had happened. He’d lost count of the number of times some idiot had backed into one of the low-level spaces. The signs are big enough and there’s a long thick bright yellow line but still, people don’t see or don’t realise or don’t know that their car is much taller than they think.
He sinks his hands deep into his pockets. He can’t be bothered with this today. The anger, the shouting, the blaming, the tears. Sometimes someone laughs at their own stupidity.
He walks closer to the car whose back end is crumpled into the low concrete beam. No one in the driver’s seat. He walks around to the other side. Hello? Anybody there? You okay? Nothing. No sound from anybody. Brett’s forehead furrows into deep creases. He removes his hands from his pockets. The hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle. He pulls on the door handle. Driver’s side. The door opens and the smell of a fresh valet service drifts out filling the air around him. He gets into the car kneeling on the driver’s seat and leans into the back. The car is spotless, not a crumb or piece of anything anywhere. He turns around sitting down into the seat and taps his fingers on the dashboard. He opens the glove compartment. The door drops down with a heavy thunk and a pile of tiny stuffed songbirds spill out into the footwell. Without warning the door slams shut. Brett is trapped inside.
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