Ficlets

And I'm Goin' Down, All the Way Down

Dean flicked on the radio and checked his rear view mirror.

no stop signs, speed limit

He checked his side mirror. His foot nudged the speed up towards 80, and he could feel the Sunbird shudder in objection and the wind harass the vinyl top.

like a wheel, gonna spin it

Sweat beaded on his brow and gave his palms ideas. The road ahead stretched into the darkness. The road behind, well, he didn’t want to think about that.

playing in a rocking band

Desperate, Dean urged the car faster. It wobbled and bucked at the idea. He checked the mirror again, still nothing. But he knew what he could not see would be the end of him, maybe everyone he knew.

my way to the promised land

Dean checked the seat beside him. The photograph, the locket, the glasses, and the letter were all still there. They mocked him.

I’m on the highway to hell

Shivering along with the mean guitar licks, Dean tried to turn off the radio. The song only got louder, more insistent.

I’m on the highway to hell

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