Wrong Turn by Wendy Cooper
Darrell gripped the steering wheel tightly. He’d made a wrong turn somewhere. Now, they were in a land that looked beautiful but also weirdly artificial somehow. And the people; they all had the same eyes, lips, chins…
His wife Gloria visibly shuddered as she said mostly to herself, “The only difference is variation of color.”
“Mommy, I’m scared,” cried their seven year old daughter, Katie, from the back seat.
“I know baby. So am I.” Gloria reached back and gave Katie a reassuring pat on her knee.
“It’s going to be okay,” Darrell tried to reassure his family. He would have sounded convincing if not for the slight waver of his voice. “I’ve just got to turn around and head back to where we were before we got lost,” he said with a laugh that was a little too forced. Quietly, he said to his wife, “Just don’t make any eye contact.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Gloria said, barely above a whisper. “I don’t think they actually see us.”
Katie whimpered again. Gloria asked nervously, “Honey, where are we?”
Darrell’s answer was him pointing a shaking finger towards a road side sign.
“No!” Gloria gasped.
“Yes,” said Darrell as he gulped. “Beverly Hills.”