"You wanna stop in at Corky's?”

Frank hit the brakes and pulled over, throwing the shift into neutral. He looked at Marie. There she was, full of energy, beaming back at him, bouncing on the seat as if she were a college student who had stayed up all night drinking Jolt colas.

"You wanna, Frank?”

"Well, okay. We can go and check it out--” his words trailed off, betraying his apprehension. But she likes it when I get to the point. “What if he's there, Marie?”

"We'll cross that bridge if we reach it.”

(Exactly one hundred words from my novel-in-progress.)