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Weekly Contest #288
The Last Laugh Sophia told herself to remember it. Distill it, cast it in amber to trace tomorrow. She’d want to be back here, in the prologue, the calm before the storm and her clothes still dry - there’d be tears in the morning. So she remembered. The crackle in her car speakers, the tinkle of her keys against her thigh. The sky glowering, fervour thick in the air, electric, just waiting for him to touch her before it sparked. The steering wheel smooth as it rolled through her grip, turning her onto Blackmore Street and into the speckled g...
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