Boris sat in the burnt out car, turning the steering wheel as he screeched round the corners, chased by the polizei.
In the forest outside the town of Riedenberg, Boris had stumbled upon the old car. It had been there for decades, plants and grass had surrounded it.
He picked up the revolver he had found in the glovebox. The trigger was jammed. He shouted ‘bang’ as he pretended to fire the gun at the pursuers behind him.
When he turned round an old man stood staring at him. Boris froze.
The man approached him and dragged him out the car.
‘Give me the gun,’ he demanded. Boris handed it over. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’
‘Sorry sir,’ Boris apologised.
‘There must be no witnesses.’ The old man raised the gun. On his shirt Boris saw the swastika. ‘We must wait for the führer to rise again.’
The old man shouted ‘bang.’ Boris turned and ran.
Behind him he heard the deranged howls. He kept going until he could hear them no more.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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