Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the prompts are supplied by ME and can be found right here.


This week's prompts are : 

1. eyes on the road! eyes on the road! 
2. uh-oh 
3. tiffany lamp 
4. me? why me? 
5. boogie 
6. teapots

Here is my story:  

"Get in the car Francine!" 
"You shouldn't be driving Justin, you've been drinking since lunchtime and you know there's a police blitz on tonight." 
"That's why we're taking the back roads, honey, now get in the car!"

Francine sighed, knowing that further argument was useless and she had no other way to get home. Buckling her seatbelt she urged Justin to do the same, but he just sneered as he took off with a squeal of the tyres. "It's only three miles Fran, what can possibly happen?" as he swerved to narrowly miss a row of rubbish bins out on the kerb for tomorrow morning's collection. 

"I wish you hadn't stayed so long Justin, we could have driven home in daylight and you wouldn't be so drunk," she said miserably. "I'm NOT drunk!" he shouted staring at her flaming cheeks. "I'm not," he insisted, running into the next row of rubbish bins, sending them rolling with rubbish bags spilling out and breaking open.

"Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road! Please Justin, slow down a little."
"Well now you've gone and made me mad. What was I supposed to do? Huh? Have one beer and then boogie on out of there? it's Steve's birthday!"
"But you had that whole bottle of Scotch too and fell over into his mother's china cabinet. You broke her collection of miniature teapots! That's why she called me to come and get you."

Justin stared at her, slightly slack-jawed. "I don't remember doing that," he said. 

"You passed out," said Francine. "I did not!" said Justin, taking his eyes off the road again. 

Looking back, to check which street they were on, he saw a police car about a block behind.

"Uh-oh," he said, pressing down the accelerator and speeding around the next corner.

"What?" said Francine. "Cops!" said Justin. "We'll get away a bit and then you can switch places with me." He sped around another corner, losing control of the steering and crashing through the front window of a house, driving right over a tiffany lamp and narrowly missing the old couple sitting in their TV chairs. 

In shock, they just sat there, gaping at Justin and Francine as they climbed out of the car. The police car which had followed them pulled up at the kerb, the officers getting out and coming towards them. 

Justin tried to run, but the old man reached out with his walking stick and caught his ankle, tripping him to the floor just as the first officer, Sergeant Peter Coombe, stepped in through the broken window. 

"Don't move Justin," he said. Turning to the old couple, he said, "would one of you please open the front door for my partner? She doesn't want to climb through this broken glass." 

He radioed for assistance and took hold of Justin's arm. "Back to the lock-up with you sunshine," he said. 

He shook his head and sighed. "You've only been out a month. Didn't learn your lesson did you? And you're eighteen now son, no more juvenile court for you. Come along now. You too missy, Francine Thistlewaite isn't it? Come along with me."

"Me? Why me?" said Francine. "You were in the car, that makes you an accessory to the crime." 

Francine burst into tears, too shook up to even begin apologising to the old couple and the police officers. They were led to the police vehicle, Justin in handcuffs, as the tow truck arrived to pull his car out from the old couple's living room. As they attached the tow hook, Justin's boot popped open revealing several brown paper packages. The officer's partner, Constable Mary Smith, called him back. "Look what we have here Sarge." Pulling on some disposable gloves they photographed the evidence where it was, then transferred the packages to the boot of the police car.

"Looks like even bigger trouble for you this time Justin," said the Sergeant. They all waited in the vehicle until a van arrived with makeshift repairs for the broken window, then Constable Mary Smith made sure the old couple understood they were to present themselves at the Police Station the next morning to make a statement.