"Just get in the car," he ordered. The trip had lost its element of fun; I was angry, hopping mad, as my great-gramma used to say. Earl could be such a jerk and I hated it when he got frustrated with our children."Hold it, honey; maybe we can go find another ride. How would that be, girls?" I tried to placate them both; we were only there because Earl wanted a diversion from driving and thought it would be a great idea to take lunch inside the abandoned amusement park. Now, as we stood at the top of the ride, they were scared. I looked down and glanced at the rickety car; there were rust holes in the bottom and it looked unsteady. The end of the slide was obscured by the thick overgrowth below. Anything could be in there.Earl got in. "C'mon!" He yelled gruffly; the girls jumped at the harshness of his voice and held each other. I took a deep breath and pushed. The car held to the track and and we heard Earl yell all the way down. But something must have been waiting at the bottom because his cries abruptly stopped.
When is a big slide at the amusement park not fun? When it's the one from this week's Scribe's Cave prompt. I offer 198 words in response. Click the image to add yours.