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by Sandra Arnold
Her headlights were no help at all in this pea-soupy fog. She turned off the engine, wrapped her red, woollen coat tightly around herself, got out the car and began to walk. Nothing was visible, behind, in front, below or above, so what was the point in walking and what exactly was she hoping to find? There was no option but to turn around and walk back in the direction she’d come from until she found herself outside her car again, peering through the window. But why was there was a woman inside, slumped over the steering wheel? And why was this woman wearing her red coat?
Sandra Arnold’s work includes eight books, including her most recent, Below Ground, The Bones of the Story and Where the wind blows. Her short fiction has received nominations for The Best Small Fictions, Best Microfictions and The Pushcart Prize. She has a PhD in Creative Writing from Central Queensland University, Australia.
