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Weekly Contest #41
Open land engulfed the car. Rocks. Yellow grass. Bunched-up bushes. The window never rolled down. I wanted to stick my head out and smell the breeze. I wanted to taste the world. The window never rolled down. The man was never my favorite. We both knew who my master was. He pulled out his phone and talked into it. I could hear her on the other side. She sounded different since I last saw her. She had come home that day smelling something awful. Like unapologetic lust and beady testosterone. The man must not have liked what was under his nose...
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