Accidents

Accidents

by Anonymous

When he called her a dyke for wanting her own motorcycle instead of riding on the back of his, she hit him hard enough to break his nose. That had been an accident.

The hitting. Not the breaking.

There's still blood on her knuckles when she sticks out her thumb and hitches a ride out of Friendship (a ridiculous name for a city) on her way to Polk County (ridiculous too but for different reasons).

In the passenger's seat of the 1987 Dodge Dakota, she empties herself on the dash.

She's drunk. Angry.

Frightened by how often these things coincide.