Finalist, Zoetrope Short Fiction Contest

The night of the fire:

Jenny Munkasy said she had been driving home from choir practice, just about to pull into her driveway, when she heard a voice whisper to her, “Drive ahead just a little more,” and she drove past the driveway.

The voice didn’t frighten her, she said. It was something soft and sweet in her ear, yet not in her ear, something already in her head, yet very distinct from her own thoughts that told her once again at the end of the block, “Drive ahead just a little more. Drive ahead just a little more.”

She came to where Highway BB merged with Aptakisic and was about to turn around and go home when the voice said again, “Drive ahead just a little more.”

Now she was away from the town and the houses and the lights and in the midst of the woods and everything was very dark except for her headlights.

Highway BB tees with Highway X at a stern guardrail. “Drive ahead just a little more,” the voice said.

She turned left onto Highway X and around a sharp curve and saw suddenly the Weiland house alive and smoking with blazing fire.

She scrambled from the car and down the walkway, just as the Weeping Willow tree outside the house was catching fire. She pounded on the door with her fists, screaming, “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”