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.
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.
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: