I wasn’t planning on launching this blog quite this early. But I got involved in Fiction Fridays, and needed a place to post my writing. So, here we are…

Fiction HQ is still in the very early stages of development. Eventually, when I get the chance to start regular posting, it will be filled with posts about creating characters, plot development, the frustrations (and joys) of being a writer, and anything else that is relevant to our lives as creative individuals.

Updates will probably be a little slow to happen, but please keep checking back. It may take a bit, but this will eventually be a great community for writers, and I’d love for you to be a part of it.

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Fiction Friday: A Second Chance

“Close your eyes, and count backwards from ten.”

One. Andrew had been talked into visiting the old fortune teller’s hut by a few friends. This was not something he would have ever done on his own. He didn’t believe in this crap.

Two. But they were all drunk one night, and talking about things they would change, if they could do their lives over.

Three. A much older, and much drunker, man sitting in the next booth had overheard, and suggested that they visit the fortune teller’s hut at the fair this weekend. Said she might be able to help ease their regrets. Said she could help them to redo the past.

Four. They had drawn straws, cliche as that sounded, and he had lost. So he was the one sent into the hut, while his friends waited outside.

Five. Change his past, huh? The old woman invited him to sit down, and concentrate on the event he would like to change. More than likely, she was going to use some strange drug on him, and while he was out, steal his wallet. He would have to remember to check it before he left.

Six. Right after graduating college, he met this woman. Molly. She had wavy blond hair, dazzling blue eyes, and the friendliest smile he had ever seen. They saw each other once or twice. It had never gotten serious.

Seven. He was late picking her up one night from work (her car was in the shop), and so she decided to walk home.

Eight. He never saw her again. She was hit and killed by a tractor trailer. Thrown fifty feet before hitting the pavement, then skidding another dozen.

Nine. He had never forgiven himself. There may not even be a chance of them having a real, long term, relationship. But he had to try. Had to go back. Had to get there on time.

Ten….

“Hey, Drew! You going to stand around daydreaming all night, or are you going to get back to work?”

Andrew looked down, surprised to see the restaurant uniform from his brief turn in the catering industry. It was right after college, and he wasn’t entirely certain of what he wanted to do with his degree. So when a friend offered him this position, he took it. He looked at the clock. 5:30, and already getting dark. Molly got out of work at 6:00, the same time he got out.

“Gonna need everyone to stay a little late tonight, man,” his manager said, walking over. “We’re a ways behind on tomorrow’s event. If we’re going to be ready, it’ll take an extra few hours tonight.”

“I can’t. I need to be out by 6:00.”

“No exceptions. That’s not how this works.”

“I have something to do. I can come right back after I’m done. Hell, I’ll stay have the night, and come in early tomorrow, if I need to. It won’t take me more than an hour. But I’ve got to go.”

His manager nodded. “If it’s that important. But only an hour.”

Half an hour later, Andrew grabbed his coat and ran out the front door.Within minutes, he was on his way downtown, to the banking firm Molly worked at. Ten minutes past six, he pulled up out front. She was standing there, waiting for him, the snow swirling down around her. Molly hopped in, and greeted him with a kiss.

“How was work?” Andrew asked.

“Work. We’ve started work on a new project, and we’re already falling behind on the other one. Mr. Jennings was in a rare mood all day. Sometimes, he just expects too much.”

“At least it’s Friday, huh?”

“Thank goodness. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“The banquet dinner at T.K. and Sons. But I have Sunday morning off.” We continued on, the small talk of new lovers, as we drove out of town and onto the mostly empty highway. Molly only lived a few miles from her job, but the snow was really coming down. A normal five minute drive was taking a lot longer.

In the opposite lane,Andrew could see the lights of a large truck. As it drew closer, he realized that it was a tractor trailer. The one that killed Molly in the alternate reality? Perhaps. Andrew slowed down. No sense in taking any chances.

As the truck drew closer, the wind began to whip. Suddenly, it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of the car. Cursing, Andrew pulled over. He flashed his lights. Once. Twice. Between the headlights, brake lights, and emergency lights, they shouldn’t be hard to see, if it wasn’t for the snow, anyways. He heard the tractor trailer drive by, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“This is insane,” Molly said, staring out into the blizzard. “Where did this come from? I hadn’t heard anything about a storm on the radio.”

“I’m not sure. But I think it’s starting to clear.” Andrew turned on his left blinker, and started slowly moving back out onto the road. Suddenly, he heard a loud horn blaring from behind the vehicle. He looked into the rear view mirror in horror. The lights of another tractor trailer were bearing down on them. Andrew heard the sickening crunch of metal against metal, heard Molly’s scream, and felt the car begin to swerve as the much larger vehicle pushed them along the icy roads. Ahead, barely illuminated by the headlights of Andrew’s car, was a large, twisted tree. As if in slow motion, he watched as the tree grew closer and closer.

There are no second chances, he realized. Staying late, as he had in the original reality, had saved his life. All of his memories of the future that would never exist flashed across his mind as the front of his car made contact with the tree. Moments later, it was over.