“Hey Jerry, are you all right?” Craig called out as he ran over to where Jerry was standing. “That was some blast.” When he got to Jerry, Craig looked down and saw what Jerry was staring at. “Damn,” he said.
Jerry let out a loud sigh. “I’ve been working on the motorcycle engine for three months and was about to put it back on the bike,” he said. “And now look at it. It’s just a pile of twisted parts.”
“Well,” Craig said, “it could have been worse if it had blown up while you were riding the motorcycle.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Ted Strutz.