I’m back at it! You all know what day it is: Sunday. Know what that means? SNIPPET SUNDAY IS A GO.

How to participate in Snippet Sunday:

• You share a snippet of your current work in progress or whatever else you are working on. A scene, dialogue, a whole chapter, a poem – anything goes. 
• Link your Snippet Sunday back here, and we can watch the world burn in our amazingness together
• Ta da! Snippet Sunday complete

This week I’m sharing another snippet of a short story I was working on. It’s a bit of a random adventure, honestly, so bear with me. I am hoping to dive back into this and really take it somewhere, you know? So, any feedback and whatnot would be very nice.

Rain sucked. Well, that’s not true. I love rain – I just hate being caught outside in a shit-storm without my umbrella. Filtered sunlight had illuminated the variations and cracks in the sidewalk when I left. Wisps of clouds had clung to each other in the sky, giving no clue of what was to come. By the time the sky had darkened, I was too far from home to turn back –It was simply a matter of which way was actually worth getting wet for.

I’d left home in hopes of scavenging the new used book store in town for something I didn’t have yet, preferably The Complete Works of Shakespeare or something equally coveted. It was just my luck that half way there, the sky would open up into a torrential downpour – when I had no umbrella, no coat, and was wearing Toms with holes in them. Fucking bipolar weather.

Of course, the universe decided today was the day to cut my string and release me to the fates. The store was closed. It was fucking closed, on a Monday… at three in the afternoon. What the hell?

And so, here I was: soaking wet, exhausted, and pissed off. I gave up jogging about five minutes ago – I was already drenched and running only made the drops sting like the first ten minutes of acupuncture. No need to run for shelter when shelter was two miles from the store and I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit this late in the doomed adventure. Besides, it was easier to hold the shawl I was wearing over my head when I was walking. It was pointless, but it was the thought that counted. It made me feel better.

It was there, walking along the sidewalk that I became aware of a low rumble creeping up behind me. I turned, blinking to focus through the haze created by the pounding rain. As I squinted, a rusted, red pickup pulled up beside me. It slowed down to a crawl as I kept walking.

“Hey, need a ride?” A deep voice called from the cab.

I kept moving, not answering and focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

The low rumble kicked up again and I saw the red of the cab creeping into my peripheral. Suddenly, I was staring into the open window at a man who looked to be a few years older than me at the most – though, I couldn’t tell for sure. He seemed young. He had a youthful face and laugh lines curled gracefully around his lips. There was also a faint shadow coloring his jawline, the hint of a re-growing beard. He was handsome, but that was irrelevant. Sort of.

He was watching me with an expectant look on his face, one brow arched high in my direction. “Do you want a ride?” He repeated.

I paused, lowering my shawl down so I could wrap it around my shoulders. “How do I know you’re not an axe murder or something?”

The man laughed, a genuine belly laugh before pulling to a complete stop and nodding his head toward the passenger side of the car. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re soaking wet and probably freezing. I’d never forgive myself if I just kept driving. Besides, my mother would shoot me if she knew I drove past a lady and didn’t offer help. Now get in.”

I huffed, my breath forming a pale cloud in the air in front of my face. I grumbled slightly under my breath and jumped off the curb to avoid the forming river and get into the car. The door was unlocked and I pulled it open, dumping my bag onto the ground before hoisting myself into the seat.

I looked up just as a hand came flying towards my face, and my heart jumped into my throat – but it paused there, fingers extended.

“I’m John, at your service.” The man offered with a light smile.

“Alina.” I took his hand and he gave it a firm shake before releasing me.

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where to?”