There were headlights coming. He stood in the rain and let the water soak him through. He did not remember where he had come from. Where had he been a moment before? Dark rain lashed the world. There was asphalt beneath his shoes, slick as blood, black as coal.
Headlights were coming. Headlights on the road.
He stood in the rain and felt his hands tremble. They had trembled on the wheel.
There were headlights coming toward him, headlights on the road.
It was dark at night, and he’d been drinking.
No more headlights — now.
Just shadows on the road.
💡
Hi there! I’m Odin Halvorson, a librarian, independent scholar, film fanatic, fiction author, and tech enthusiast. If you like my work and want to support me, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for as little as $2.50 a month!
