This post is written for Emilia’s Picture It and Write Challenge. He could here the sirens. The police sirens. The police that were after him. The neighbor had called the police after hearing the gunfire. She was dead. He had made sure of that.
The Friday Fictioneers Challenge can be found here (FF).
As a young boy I liked to help my grandfather bale the straw, load it on his tractor and then drive that old tractor to the outskirts of town and sell to the local crop dealer. He taught me to drive that old Ford tractor before I could drive a car. Some days we had to wait in line before we could unload our tractor. While he waited in line I went inside to spend some time with the other boys my age. I was having a ball.
But one day, while waiting, he accidentally left me there by myself.
Well … off we go on our first part of our journey straight through the Soviet Union with the TSR up to Vladivostok and finally we will arrive at Shikoku Island. I combined a Haiku pared with an American Sentence. Special thanks to Bjorn.