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.