The Canvas

Her teeth rattled as Adele crooned at top volume, the tiny speakers of her Civic distorting the sound. Lacy sang along, her off-key voice and altered lyrics swallowed by Adele’s.

“I set fire, to the pain! Watched it pour as I smashed your face!”

The car swirled with her anger, its cloak of protection the only thing holding back another round of tears.

The cloak blocked everything else. The darkening pastures full of grazing cattle she sped past. The brilliant hues of sunset painting the clouds above her.

The orange warning light on her dashboard.

She saw none of it until darkness covered everything except the steam escaping her hood.

“Shit!” Lacy slammed her brakes, the squealing tires loud enough to break through the music. She skidded to a stop.

She stared at the front of her car, willing it to magically fix itself.  When that failed, she searched her car for her cell, finally finding it on the passenger’s floor.

She shuddered as she caught a glance of her face bathed in the overhead light of the rearview mirror.

Her brown hair had escaped from the French twist after sleeping in her car the first night. The following two days of not showering meant her natural curly hair shot in every direction, rather like she’d electrocuted herself.

Mascara and dried tears blended to form a navy waterfall beneath her green eyes, spilling off the circles surrounding her eyes.

She ripped her eyes from her image and flicked on the cell phone’s screen.

She glanced at it. “Great. No service. So much for AAA. Now what?”

She could hear the sizzle of the steam now, the sound growing louder as she exited her car. She held her phone up to the sky, pointing it different directions, trying to find a signal.

And failing.

“Mooooo.”

She jumped, glaring in the direction of the noise. “You sound like my mother. ‘Always carry an emergency kit, Lacy. Did you know the Smith’s son is single, Lacy? I need grandbabies, Lacy.’ Well look where she got me!” Her voice echoed and a few cows answered.

She scanned the area for lights, wishing she’d paid closer attention while driving.

Nothing. She could barely see ten feet from her car.

She looked at her outfit, her red Versacci dress paired with the new Manolo Blahnik’s she’d given herself as an early birthday gift. “I’m screwed.”

Lacy blinked back another round of tears threatening to escape. “No. He isn’t worth it. I will find someone to help me, get my car fixed, and then eat an entire chocolate cake.”

She looked to the sky, as if it held an auto mechanic just waiting to be dropped to her aid.

And froze.

The sky was not the sky, but a work of art—a black canvas dusted perfectly with glitter—her first view untainted by city lights.

Lacy was stranded, alone, and had no idea where she was, but she smiled.

“Happy birthday to me.”

* * *

I’m a bit rusty. Any concrit is welcome as always.

   

 

This week’s prompt from Write on Edge had two photos to use as inspiration for up to 500 words. I chose this one:

Advertisements

About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Writing Prompt and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Canvas

  1. Andy says:

    That is a great story, givin a prompt….no rust what so ever! hoping the stars are just as bright over you and your fammily….

  2. Renee says:

    No rust from my view. Lots of imagery, and audio as well as visual descriptives. And the ending is great!

  3. Awwwwww…..your imagery is terrific and I loved the corruption of the Adele song. 🙂 I think there are rough edges–transitions & such–that could be smoothed here, lingered over a bit when you’re not concerned @ word count, but in essence you’ve nailed it.

Comments are closed.