Sleeping on the Interstate...
You know you're not supposed to take the car out of state.
So you drive it all the way to the edge of the state. And you stop.
And you rest there. Sleep for a few hours at the rest stop.
Ignore the stories you've heard. The kids murdered at the rest stop.
The guy who opens his car door and finds a hook on the door handle.
The bodies never found... and the ones found in the woods.
You should really stay in a motel. But you won't be there that long.
You're heading further. Six hours past the border.
Six hours past where you're allowed to go.
To a small airport. A tiny airport to meet a plane that's late.
This is years before 9/11 and the security is lax. They let you keep the car by the curb for two hours. The guards come and talk to you, but they're friendly. They don't care if you move the car or not.
Times have changed since then. The small airport was rebuilt and expanded at a cost of fifty million dollars.
The guards now shoo you away if you park for more than five minutes.
The car companies now put GPS devices on their vehicles and know instantly if you take their cars out of state.
But the rest stop is still there. And there's still no sign of the guy with the hook for an arm.
And the guy who drove up there and went to the small airport?
You miss him sometimes. But he's long gone.
Today's Comic Strip Chuckle
6 hours ago
1 comment:
Brilliant
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