A short piece of writing for the writing group, based on the prompts “petrol station” and “adventure”…
She’s leaning against the wall of the station as I go to pay for my fuel. Long dark hair, leather jacket, artfully torn jeans. “Hey. You.”
I try to ignore her as I approach the window, nod to the clerk and check the total. “Pump two, please.”
“Thirty-four pounds and seventy pence. Insert your card in the machine.” The oblivious clerk sounds thoroughly bored.
“I need your help.” she says, voice throbbing.
I shrug as I type in my PIN. “Nope. Not interested.” Beep-beep-beep-beep.
I feel rather than see her turn her head, then push her shoulders off the wall. “You don’t help damsels in distress? No quests any more, old knight?”
“They got boring.” I retrieve my card and turn to face her. “I found other work.”
For the first time, she looks discomforted. I wonder how many others she’s tried this on. “You’re the only one-”
“Can it, lady. You’re making enough of a scene.” I turn and start walking back to my car.
“Harry’s back.” she calls after me.
I’m supposed to turn around at this point. I’m supposed to react at the name of my old nemesis, who stole my fortune and ruined my career. I’m supposed to care.
I wave a hand over my shoulder. “Tell him I said hi.”
And I drive off into the sunset with the wind in my hair and rock blasting on the stereo.