She just jumped out of the dark! It wasn’t my fault! He pleads to no one. He swigs MD20/20 and thinks. His old Dodge Charger is a piece of trash but it’s a tank. It obliterates deer. God knows what it would do to...
She’d just appeared, arms outstretched. Shock of white hair. Dead eyes. And wailing. He cannot forget the wail. At length he grabs a flashlight and gets out.
Outside there’s nothing. Not a dent or a scratch. Perhaps it was all in his mind. He shivers, hearing a faint moan on the wind.
Maybe the stories of the Baker Street Hag are true? He shines the light around. They say she’s all in white and if you’re gonna die she points and shrieks and—
Oh, never mind. There’s the old broad lying in the bushes.
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