Author Information
Parking Lot (Short Story)
One Sunday afternoon, a family accustomed to shopping together pull into a market. This family, the Fumbles of the extravagant Bugga Bugga Estates, at one time held an oath to never exceed ten spaces from an entrance when parking. So the Fumbles drive and drive, but never find a space.
"I have a bad feeling about this," declares nobody, the expression being a mere consideration on behalf of the Fumbles. But after an hour of waiting, hope turns into uncertainty. Then after yet another hour, uncertainty turns into apple sauce, which represents fear. An elder approaches a parked vehicle only to retrieve his umbrella, opening to nothing but spines. Witnessing this mischievous elder, the daughters embrace shivering arms as their mother nearly loses her vocabulary. The father, however, takes charge and stops the engine, opting for a waiting strategy.
On standby, a daughter spots a leaving vehicle and exclaims, "over there, over there!"
"Go, go, go!" urges the wife, but when the father turns the key, nothing happens. The Fumbles grow silent as he turns it once more. Nothing. The Fumbles scream out in terror.
