“You said it was close to Nielson Street!” Jim ripped the map out of my hand. The heat in the car made rivulets where his brow creased in annoyance.
I handed him the half of the map was still in my grip. “Look,” I pointed. “It’s fairly close.”
“Sure, in the same ballpark as the middle of nowhere,” he scoffed. “Women…”
“Awesome! I can make it on foot.” I bolted out the door and slammed it close. He stayed behind, mumbling in his seat.
Sure enough, I walked two blocks and voilà! Our destination! Na. Na na. Na na. Naaaaaa.
This is a drabble for Monday’s prompt. And yes, I spent 6 of the precious 100 words to write Na. Na na. Na na. Naaaaaa.