Flash Fiction


Hitchhiker

It was because he was glowing with an inner radiance that I stopped the car to offer him a lift.

“Hello...” he said as he delicately shut the door “...my name is Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ?”

“Umm...”

“Jesus Christ!”  I believed him. After a pause, I said, “Been waiting long?”

“No, I don’t have problems with lifts, it’s direction.  Ever since I was dumped on...” He stared emphatically heavenward “...don’t seem to know where I’m going.”

He got out at the next junction.  In the rear view mirror, I saw him getting into a wagon heading back up the motorway.