An arrogant businessman hits a car full of old ladies. He gets out and approaches their vehicle, blaming them for the accident

An arrogant businessman hits a car full of old ladies. He gets out and approaches their vehicle, blaming them for the accident. 

Donovan, Melissa (2014-01-02). 1200 Creative Writing Prompts (Adventures in Writing) (p. 9). Swan Hatch Press. Kindle Edition. 


Darn it, he was late again and it was his mother’s fault. She always called him at the most inopportune times; why couldn’t she understand that he was a busy man, an important man and didn’t have time to visit? Yes, it had been several years since he had been to see her but he had been busy, building his clientele. In fact, he was the youngest account executive at Batterson Advertising, respected by the other execs and admired by the support staff, especially the ladies. Why didn't wasn't she content to shop and garden with her batty old lady friends? Irritated, he gunned the engine as he turned onto 5th, only to find himself headed right for a stalled car. He was going too fast to miss it and plowed right into the rear quarter panel of an old boat of a car. His airbag deployed, filling the compartment with choking particles and smoke. After the big bang of the collision, all he could hear was his engine coughing and dying. His car! HIs perfect, beautiful car! Who had been so stupid as to stall in the middle of the street? It was clearly their fault- they should have pushed their car to the side of the street. They were so thoughtless! His anger simmered and then boiled over as he reached for the door handle. He was going to shred the driver of that stalled car, turn him into mincemeat.


As his door began to open, he heard a sharp rap on the window. What was this? He snapped his head up and met the steeliest pair of green eyes that he had ever seen. The green eyes were in a face that was soft with age, but the mouth was pursed and tight and the eyes were piercing him right to his seat. The the old lady spoke. “Get out of that car, young man. You have a lot of explaining to do! She rapped on the window again for emphasis, and he saw that she had a cane with a brass top, fashioned into what looked like….a bat? He felt a creeping fear and then just as quickly shoved it away That crash must have addled his brains- how could he be afraid of an old lady?



He opened the car door, swung his legs out, looked up and saw….another pair of steely eyes, these the grey-blue of thunderclouds. Odd- she had the same aged face, even the same wavy white hair- and a cane, but this one was topped by an upside-down brass bat. Now he KNEW that he must have hit his head. He probably had a concussion. Steely blue-eyed lady banged her cane sharply on the ground and said, “Get up out of that car and explain yourself! Why did you not stop when you saw our car?” 


He felt irritation returning. This was definitely not his fault. These two women had left their stalled car in the middle of the street and it was their fault that he had run into them! He stood, hoping to intimidate the old women by towering over them. But as he straightened up, he heard a cold voice from behind him, on the passenger side of the car. “Young man, you are a menace on the roads and you will certainly be made to pay for the damage to our car!” He spun to see the coldest pair of brown eyes that he had ever seen boring into him over the roof of his car. Odd, he thought. He had never seen cold brown eyes before but this woman’s eyes and expression made him shudder. She raised her cane, topped with a brass bat with wide-spread wings, and shook it at him.


Okay, this was too much. He was an important, admired, respected man and he wasn’t going to be bullied by a bunch of old ladies, no matter how steely their eyes or creepy their canes. And then from the old ladies’ boat of a car came an eerily familiar and harsh voice. “Young man, you will come to this car and help me get out of my seat. Right. Now.” He strode over to the car, determined that THIS woman was going to bear his wrath. He yanked open the driver’s door, earning a "tsk tsk" from the women behind him and a hiss from the woman in the driver’s seat. He reached for the driver’s arm but instead had his knuckles rapped by a cane topped with a brass, beady-eyed bat. The driver elegantly stepped from the car, stood up to her full height of five feet, narrowed her eyes and said sweetly, “Well, hello David. I thought we might run into each other one of these days.”


“Hi...mom...”