Wednesday Writing ...

on Thursday. I wrote this about 8 years ago while on my creative writing MA course. I'd been reading a lot of Raymond Carver at the time! Reading it now I can see where I'd change it but I'll leave it in its original version for now.

Over the sea
The man had borrowed the truck from his neighbour who used it to take vegetables to market. His neighbour had washed it for him. ‘You’ll want it clean for today,’ he’d said.
The man drove to the girl’s house. She was waiting outside. She called out, ‘I’m going now,’ before she climbed into the passenger seat. A woman in a widows-black dress came to the door and watched the truck drive off.
In the truck the man said, ‘You okay?’
The girl nodded, not looking at him.
‘You don’t have to come, you know. You could wait at home with your grandmother.’
‘I want to come.’
They drove in silence. It was fifteen miles to the airport and the roads were rough and dusty. The last part of their journey took them down the hill overlooking the airport.
‘I remember the last time I came here,’ the girl said. ‘I thought things were going to be different then.’

Continued on the bits that are too long.
xx