The Hitchhiker

A Story by john

A story

Bill was sitting aimlessly in his chair looking off into the distance stopping every few minutes to sip a hot cup of coffee. Slowly after getting out of his stupor he put himself into a good a enough mood to get up from the chair and slowly walk out. A strong frigid gust of wind was blowing in his direction as he could see the rural farms and fields off in the distance.

The gold of the corn crops bouncing off the sun seeming to gleen outwards from the small dinner he was in to the road. Getting into his truck he pushed the keys in and drove off. He gazed at the empty ancient farms seemingly placed there by some wayward force. It was a lonesome sight but it was a common one as a eighteen wheeler truck driver and almost comforting to him.

The drive was not rushed for he had taken a similar path many times before and the roads all looked the same to him.As bill turned on the am radio a hand seemed to come at him, a hitchhiker? in this place? He stopped inquisitively wanting to know the meaning of this. The unknown soul plopped in the big rig and bill inquired.

"where to?"