On my way home from work I saw a woman covered head to toe in blood. She nonchalantly walked out the front door of a house, got in a car, and drove off. I pulled an illegal u-turn and followed her. I followed her down old 29 almost a hundred miles until I ran out of gas. I then walked for about a mile until I was picked up by a pretty girl who drove me to a cafe/truck stop/garage. We shared a delicious milkshake before the tow truck picked me up. I’ve always kicked myself that I never got that girls number. And I never saw the bloody woman again either, even though I went back to the house and looked around. The house was empty and I’ve never saw anyone ever live there.
I always think of it though, whenever I have a milk shake. That bloody woman and that beautiful girl.