This story, written by my brilliant friend ‘Cake’, has wound it’s tentacles around my imagination and held on tight. With his permission, I have written a loose sequel to this tale and tied it to one of my own short stories –The Cafe. I want you all to read his story before you read the follow up. Enjoy…
‘Which way now?’ Christopher asked at the T-junction.
‘How should I know,’ Angela snapped back.
‘Why are they never any signposts out in the country?’
‘Because people usually have a good idea of where they are going.’
He ignored the insult. He glanced at his watch, the second-hand on fourteen, fifteen, he turned right.
‘I hope this is the right way,’ Angela said.
Christopher remained silent and drove on.
What should have been a relaxing winter weekend getaway from the demands of their respective professions and their two young children, a time to rediscover each other, had gone wrong from the very start. The temperature had taken a sudden unexpected dip and they had argued as to whether to return home to collect heavier coats. Christopher had remained adamant that they press on while at the same time blaming Angela, who had been in charge of packing, for her lack…
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