Friday Fictioneers is organized by Rochelle Wisoff Fields. Please visit her page to see the rules and look at other entries.
Some areas of the old Mother Road are undergoing a revival, but I don’t see it happening for this God-forsaken place. Abandoned for decades, the battered tarmac stretches ahead of my car’s lights.
I wonder if this is what the whole world will look like after civilisation ends.
I stop the truck and get out. This place has no features to identify it, but I know I’ll be found, even in the dark.
I hear the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, but after all these years, I don’t dare to turn around and face him.
“I’m not afraid,” I lie.