Alan watched the stone leap from his hand and crash through the windshield of the van. He hid behind and old volx wagon and hoped for the best.
Fortunately, the family that owned the van had not seen him and presumably thought the stone just fell from the sky.
Alan snuck around the heaps of garbage and out the exit, completely unseen. He ran along the broken sidewalk to the diner he often went to to contemplate the world.
He ripped a napkin out of the holder, grabbed a pen from his pocket, and began to write. He began…
“The process of thought starts deep within…”