Vineyard
It was late when my rental car broke down in the middle of Italian wine country. I had no cell reception. I thought that only happened in bad horror movies.
I left the little blue car, and started walking. I was thankful that I'd worn my sneakers instead of high heels.
When I reached a lane branching off the main road, I followed it and at last came to a house and outbuildings. The house was low, red tiled roof and whitewashed walls. Shrubs and trees crowded around the house.
I knocked on the door, but since there were no lights on, I doubted anyone was still up.
As I feared, there was no response.
I wondered if I dared to break in. I wanted to call my brother to let him know I was delayed.
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