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Bigfoot by Jasmine Carroll 

About

 

Bigfoot is about what happens when things start to get strange. Mr. Grawson is an important business man, impervious to the whims of others, but ignoring others no longer his best option when his car breaks down on a burning stretch of highway and he has to rely on a rather different looking person for help.

 

Keywords

 

Bigfoot, Monster, Strange, Different, Sci-Fi, Highway, Desert, Comedy

 

Excerpt

 

          "The engine of the car of my 2016 Mercedes hissed as the alien bizarre man lifted the hood. Tall, rotund, and somehow moist, I could barely understand him through the drawl of his voice as he inquired about my car. It may have just been because I was ‘city folk,’ but the man seemed too strange to be human. Bent over the vehicle, more of his rear end peeked out from the hem of his jeans than I’d care to see and his white t-shirt was badly stained, by oil, if the metallic odor wafting from his clothes was any indicator."

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          “Yeah, listen,” I yelled over the car’s feedback and the man’s grunting. “Triple A will probably be here any minute soon, so I can just wait for them.”

         

          The man growled as he stood up, wiping the sweat from under the brim of his tattered, blue, hat. “Whoo, that sucker’s blown to shit. You don’t take care o’ this car?” he asked.

         

          “I guess not,” I said, chuckling. “Anyway, thanks for your help!” Please go away.

         

          “Naw, kid, c’mon. Way out here, you’ll be lucky’f them damn folks get tuh ya ‘fore sundown. It’s hot as hell now, but out here, ‘cold’ means ‘freezin’ yer balls off,’” the man said.

         

          The man’s rusted and dented, Fford was parked behind my car. There were food containers in the windows and the noises that came from it as he drove up were more than enough reasons to never get in.

         

          “No,” I said finally. “I’d rather not leave my car anyway.”

         

          “Well, Bessie there’s got a tow hitch,” he said pointing up the road behind me.. “We’ll rig ‘er up and pull ‘er round. There’s a station ‘bout, thirty miles up.,” he said.

         

          The man’s rusted and dented Ford was parked behind my car. There were food containers in the windows and the noises that came from it as he drove up were more than enough reasons to never get in.

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