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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Contest Entry · #2152652
Daily Flash Fiction Entry for March 18 - no cell service.
Craver turned off the highway onto an old dirt road.

"You sure this is the right way?" his wife asked, then immediately followed it with, "This is not the right way. I am sure the Thompson's place is off the highway closer to the lake. It has to be."

Carver ignored her. Her voice grated over his nerves; its jarring pitch forcing him to press the accelerator and mix up the dust so that it billowed back behind them, closing them in.

"Turn around." she ordered, but he continued to ignore her.

She pulled out her phone then gave an annoyed sigh. "No, cell phone service. We are in the middle of nowhere and I am sure this is not the road. Stop the car. We need to go back."

Carver could feel his blood pressure building. The further it climbed, the faster he drove.

"Slow down." his wife screeched.

But he was a man on a mission. One pushed too far. Something was going to give. He did not care anymore. His wife began to slap at him. Her voice rising up to heights of hysteria that had him smiling inside.

Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes causing the car to fishtail, losing control. He saw the tree, but did nothing to correct his trajectory. He didn't care anymore. They hurled toward it. His wife screamed just before impact. Her head slammed into the dashboard. Then silence. Complete silence.

When he was able, he began to assess his own mangled body. Looking over at his wife, he saw blood streaming down her face. Her mouth still open in its scream, but it had died just as she had and he smiled just as he slipped into his own oblivion.

Words = 290

Prompt for 3/18
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