My Name is Not Julia

I’ll be there at midnight. The coordinates: 49:30:00-123:30:00.

She turned off her flashlight, checked the time on her watch: 11:50. She folded up the worn piece of paper into a neat triangle and stuck it back in her brassiere.

Julia, come back to bed, what are you doing out here? He stepped out of the tent, rubbing sleep out of myeyes. She didn’t hear him, startled, she turned around quickly. Why are you dressed Julia? What’s going on? Quickly she improvised.

It’s that horse. It’s that god damned horse! I can’tlay here with the smell of that dead horse. I’ve gotto go for a walk. I’ve got to go somewhere. It’s making my skin crawl! She started to walk away fromhim but he caught her by the elbow.

It’s the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere Julia! Luis said to stay put until he came back to find us. He’ll bring the jeep and we’ll load up. The horse died! What do you want me to do? I’m sorry that’s inconveniencing you but we don’t know where we are!  Stop being unreasonable. Come back in here and try and get some sleep.

She wrestled her arm away from him. Leave me alone. Go back in the tent if you want to. I don’t want to. Go back in the tent she thought to herself, don’t make me do this. She took a long look at his silhouette in the moonlight. She couldn’t make out his features but she could see he had grabbed his glasses, his black hair slicked back away from his eyes. She was glad she couldn’t see them. She turned her back on him and walked away.

Julia! Don’t go! It’s dangerous! You’re acting crazy. She began to walk faster. She glanced at her watch, 11:55. She could hear him following in the sand behind her. This was all wrong. She was supposed to slip away while he slept. She broke into a run.

Julia! Please! You’re scaring me! Come back here! She ran away from him, away from the ocean waves, up the beach. The stench of the horse was heavy in the damp night air. She knew she must be close: 49:30:00-123:30:00. She was running wildly now, weaving in the sand, trying to escape. He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck, but she was dodging his attempts to grab her, any part of her.

Julia! He called out to her, sure she was mad from something, maybe the heat?  Sweat was pouring into his eyes, he reached down to pull his black t-shirt over his head, the heat was unbearable, but in the darkness didn’t see that the path abruptly ended at the corpse of the rotting horse they had brought with them. He recoiled in shock, losing his balance, falling
backwards. One more time he called out JULIA!

She heard the sound of him hitting the ground and knew just where he had fallen. She checked her watch: 11:58. She knew exactly where the horse was, having traced this route each night for the previous five nights while he slept. He wasn’t so lucky. He was lying in the sand, she could hear him breathing but it appeared his leg was twisted. His glasses were lying beside him. She picked them up out of the sand and placed them on his face. She softly touched his hair.

Julia, what are we going to do?

11:59. She kissed him one last time and whispered: My name is not Julia.

Debra brushed the sand from her blouse, took a last, wistful look at the now putrefying horse, and stepped into the hot-air balloon.

This was part of a previous Blog Exchange based on a prompt: Write a fictional story that ends with the following sentence: Debra brushed the sand from her blouse, took a last, wistful look at the now putrefying horse, and stepped into the hot-air balloon.

Amy - whose name is not Julia - is the author of this post. If you are looking for Kristen, she's partying down in Binkytown today. Visit here to read more at The Blog Exchange.

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[A Elliot]

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[Mrs. Chicken]

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[chris]

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[nutmeg]

That was intense! Makes me want to write me some fiction!

[Allison]

I couldn't for the life of me figure this out. Wow. And you got that from the closing sentence? Wow.

[JailDiet]

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[Binky]

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[Mrs. Chicky]

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[SuburbanOblivion]

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