Excerpt: Crossroads

Meanwhile, Phil was standing on the side of the road, looking at his right rear tire, which had run over a nail and gone flat. He shook his head and looked in the bed of the pickup truck. He had been meaning to replace his spare, but never had gotten around to it.

Phil peered up and down the road: not a farmhouse or car in sight. The sun had set over the hills on the horizon; he knew from experience that it would be very unlikely for another car to pass by after dark on the long country highway.

He sighed and pulled his jacket and a blanket out of the cab. He climbed into the bed of the truck and lay down in it, covering himself with the blanket. He balled up the jacket, and set it under his head.

For a few minutes, Phil lay still, his eyes looking directly overhead at the canopy of sparkling stars that hung over him, “Like a huge mobile over a baby’s crib,” he thought. The moon gave off enough light to make out the fields of wheat that surrounded him to his left and right. The country air was sharp and cool as he slowly breathed.

“At least it’s a clear night,” he thought to himself, then closed his eyes and went to sleep.