Broken Highway: a Thomas Highway Story
“I rubbed my temples for a few seconds then sat up and felt around for the bottle of water I’d brought to bed with me.
It was empty. I tossed it aside and stood up. I was still wearing my clothes from the night before, all the way down to my shoes.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep and I didn’t particularly care. The cycle of the sun was of no concern to me. I lived by my own set of rules and didn’t give two shits about the whims of the world around me, natural or otherwise. The area was co...mpletely dark but that didn’t mean anything. I lived in what used to be a storage basement beneath a 24-hour Vietnamese restaurant. The only door led up to the kitchen. No skylights, no windows, no doors connected me to the outside world. It could be a high-cloudless sky at noon and inside my cave it would still seem like midnight.
I pulled a lighter from my pocket, flicked it on and proceeded to light each of the 3-foot high candles that illuminated the basement, one in each corner. The meager light revealed the extent of my possessions—a mattress, a wooden chair nestled up to a small desk along one side of the wall, a couple of plastic 3-drawer sets to hold my clothes, a banquet table with some canned food and bottles of water, and a single bookshelf filled with old paperbacks.MoreLess
It was empty. I tossed it aside and stood up. I was still wearing my clothes from the night before, all the way down to my shoes.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep and I didn’t particularly care. The cycle of the sun was of no concern to me. I lived by my own set of rules and didn’t give two shits about the whims of the world around me, natural or otherwise. The area was co...mpletely dark but that didn’t mean anything. I lived in what used to be a storage basement beneath a 24-hour Vietnamese restaurant. The only door led up to the kitchen. No skylights, no windows, no doors connected me to the outside world. It could be a high-cloudless sky at noon and inside my cave it would still seem like midnight.
I pulled a lighter from my pocket, flicked it on and proceeded to light each of the 3-foot high candles that illuminated the basement, one in each corner. The meager light revealed the extent of my possessions—a mattress, a wooden chair nestled up to a small desk along one side of the wall, a couple of plastic 3-drawer sets to hold my clothes, a banquet table with some canned food and bottles of water, and a single bookshelf filled with old paperbacks.MoreLess
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