He knows every backroads and obscure one-lane highway in the country by heart.
He drives a vintage car that smells of worn leather and faint cigarette smoke, and the paint job is always pristine.
Whenever he picks up a lonely hitchhiker, they never quite see his face, only his hazel eyes occasionally glancing at them in the mirror.
You cannot find him if you look for him, but when you wander aimlessly on a deserted street in the wee hours, you will hear the deep rumble of the engine as he approaches.
If he offers you a ride, get in, but don't bother asking for a specific place.
He does not take you where you wish to go.
He takes you where you must go.
YOU ARE READING
Writing Prompts
General FictionHere are a collection of writing prompts designed by yours truly or taken from the internet. Knock yourselves out.
