#writephoto Left for Dead By Raymond Roy: #writephoto Fiction

Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt  #writephoto
Left for Dead

Body aching, covered in dirt, like I had died, was buried, dug back up then ran over me with a truck.

Trying to get my bearings I look across the Idaho landscape, not a soul in site with the exception of a tractor pulling a trailer in the distance.

A brisk breeze loosens some of the dirt packed in my oversized ears.

What the hell happened? Reminiscent of what Mum used to say, “your ears are so dirty you could grow potatoes in there”, Surprised none got in my mouth.

Getting to my feet I brush my white gloves off put on my black hat, and look down to see my still surprisingly clean starched blue trousers are none the worse for wear. I start making my way down the wheel worn grass trail.

As the sun begins to set, the tractor draws closer with flood lights on. I wave to them I think they see me.

Thank God, for help.

Every step is agony

I try to scream out but I can’t seem to open my mouth.

They see me!

It’s a farmer and his son. The boy comes toward me. Closer and closer I want to scream out but I can’t !

The father yells to the boy, “who is it son?”,,

Dad its,…. its …

Mr. Potato head?