Ochre Idyls

Poems, Haiku/Tanka, Short Fictions

Three scared teens clamor inside their skins, shoulder to shoulder in the cab of a rusty pickup.

There's a road.

But we could go straight.

I think that light ahead is the city.

But if we turn, we can hide.

The one headlight shone on the sign. Mistake Road.

OK, I'm turning.

  • Fiction
  • 52 words
  • < 1 min
  • July 04, 2025