night was falling.
a man walked along a road.
a pickup truck pulled up beside him.
want a lift?
the walking man did not answer.
long way to go to he next town. and it’s mostly deserted. probably nothing open.
the man half turned to face the driver.
i don’t want a lift.
he had his hand in the pocket of his jacket, pushed forward. as if he had, or was pretending to have, a gun in it.
ok , my friend. just trying to be neighborly.
are you my neighbor?
the truck sped off.
the man resumed walking.
total darkness fell.
there were no signs of houses or buildings along the side of the road, but there might have been some hidden by trees or with their lights off.
the man kept walking.
it got colder, and he took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together.
he came to a stretch of the road bordered by thick forest.
after about a mile of the forest, he thought he saw a light in the trees.
he hesitated, then got off the road and went into the forest.
carefully picking his way through the undergrowth and the trees, he approached the light.
it came from a single window in a small house hidden in the trees.
he stood and watched the house.
for an hour, two hours.
he saw no movement in the house, but the light remained steady.
the
re must be someone in there, he thought, if there is a light.
No comments:
Post a Comment