no time for the old stuff

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


Edgar was a man on a mission. He was always in some sort of rush.

Edgar loved electronics, and anything futuristic. “No time for the old stuff” he would say; his home being an electronic marvel.

Always in a hurry, this morning he was involved in a car accident. His car hit something on Highway 660 and his life was changed forever.

The last thing he remembered was the image of a moose on his dash cam.

These days, Edgar prefers the simple things in life, such as reading by the light of an oil lamp, and napping…lots of napping.

In Newfoundland, hundreds of people lose their lives in moose accidents each year. Some, like Edgar are fortunate enough to escape alive, with some severe challenges. This is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

Click on the Froggy for more stories.


14 thoughts on “no time for the old stuff

    1. we just had a thirteen year old killed when her boyfriend’s car hit a young moose. These things are huge, and they wander into roadways on a regular basis. hit one and you are dead

  1. No one comes out of these type of events without some sort of pain, let alone the Moose. A fine piece of journalistic type writing

  2. Nice writing. I was rushing around with Edgar, the man on a mission. How often our lives are like that.

  3. Poor Edgar – but I think he’s better off now, living a bit more simply. Fascinating about the moose risks in Newfoundland. We have some danger from hitting kangaroos on our highways, especially the big ones, but they’re not as big or prevalent as the situation you describe.

  4. Great job of bringing your reality to the Flash Fiction. I just read an MSN article c/w photo, of a woman who hit a moose on the way to work. The picture shows her grill (but apparently not her radiator) smashed, and the moose embedded in the car roof above her head, with the legs draped artistically on both sides of the windshield pillars. Apparently suffering shock, she parked the car and went in to work, not realizing, or remembering, the accident, until someone pointed out the damage to her. Lucky – in a way. 😯

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