Promises Of What I Seemed To Be

Welcome to day 27 of 30 Days of Writing, a creative writing challenge that has us running on fumes.  Our prompt today is “Side of the road”, like where you’d find roadkill. Don’t forget to link up at the end of this post if you’ve participated in today’s challenge.

Promises Of What I Seemed To Be

desert road

Twenty feet in front of me, a fox darts across the road. It’s the first living thing I’ve seen since Hank Williams dropped me off last night, just outside of Reno. Hank’s real name escapes me now; he’s just one of the many people I’ve met along the way. But his scraggly beard and cowboy hat guarantees his place in my mind as Hank Williams. Anyway, Hank and I parted ways late last night and I’ve been putting one foot in front of the other ever since.

The bar was nearly empty; a drunk passed out in the corner booth, two older fellows at the bar watching football highlights on the television, a table with four young studs playing a drinking game, and another table with three young women desperately trying to get noticed without appearing at all interested. And on the dance floor, one lone couple swaying in time to the music.

“Take me with you,” she said.

I shake off the memories. It’s better to forget. Forget the faces, the places and just make up the names as you go along. Yesterday was Hank Williams, today could be Hank Aaron. Doesn’t matter, really. Just gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other. By tomorrow at the latest, I’ll be in California. Next day or 2  after that and I’ll be in San Francisco.

“Take me with you,” she said.

One foot in front of the other. A distant rumble. I turn to look without ever missing a step. The heat shimmers off the road and makes it hard to see if someone’s coming. Then I spot the dust cloud. And seconds later, a glint of sunlight reflecting off metal. I stick out my thumb. The car passes me by, never slowing down. I catch a fleeting glimpse of a pale face in the window.

“Take me with you,” she said.

Tomorrow, I’ll be in California. Until then, I keep walking along the side of the road. Keep putting one foot in front of the other.


Now go. Visit the other talented bloggers who have joined us for this bumpy ride. Tell them they get 250 points for not selling us for scrap, 500 points if they have a AAA or CAA card.

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