The scene is someone's car. It's a late eighties sedan and smells of fast food and sweat. The backseat is covered with assorted garbage: broken CD cases, old towels, candy wrappers, batteries. If we look out the sort-of-clean passenger window, we can see the pretty girl embracing the young man goodbye. His companion is already half in the car, anxiously tapping his foot on the pavement. The stiff one stands on the porch awkwardly.
And as the car finally pulls away and we look to see the young driver of our car, we see a smile cross his face. But it's not a smile of happiness...it's a smile that chills the spine and causes the stomach to inside-out itself. It's a smile that, once seen, can't be unseen.
2 comments:
wait...this isn't the end is it?
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