An undetermined and undisclosed moment and place in time. If I knew where and when, I would tell you. Hell, your guess is as good as anyone’s. It could be present day, the past, or the future. People have tried to understand…they just can’t seem to remember. People, places, it’s all just a jumbled mess; who we were, where we lived, what we were destined to become. Thing is, no one seems to care anymore.

They are just too busy dying…

Origins

Raindrops pelt against the vehicle’s rusted metal hood as it careens down a barren gravel road. The headlights pierce through the darkness, illuminating only a few feet ahead as the car rips through the night, piercing a hole through the eternal darkness.

The wipers squeak across the windshield, tossing the rain aside. The engine throbs with heat as the pistons thrust with all their might.

Behind the windshield, a faint speck of orange intensifies and then lessens, as thin wisps of smoke drifts haphazardly through the air, until it disappears from sight. The car strikes a bump, as the muffled squeak of rusty springs and coils hidden underneath the cracked vinyl seats slice into the silence.

The dangling car keys jingle against the steering column as pale, worn fingers mash the cigarette into a small metal tray, its embers fading away until no signs of life can be detected.

Black eyes bore through the darkness seeking out what they had been expecting.

The headlights reflect off of a large metal road sign through the thick shower of rain and pitch-blackness, the flicker of light barely noticeable by human eyes. The car accelerates, the engine whirring rapidly, the passenger side door handle jiggling loosely against the vinyl material of the door.

The sign whirs by, as though it never existed, a mirage in a blanket of nothing.

Strong fingers grip the steering wheel with immense force, the plastic underneath the palm heating up from the friction.

King City. 38 Miles.

**

I was looking for a way out…we all were. Some found their answers at the bottom of a pill bottle or covered in gasoline, eyes glued to the shaky hand that held a lighted match. You could say I found a way out. Just not the one I was looking for.