Touchdown at the Lucky Mart

For the weather enthusiasts

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Richard gripped the handles of his motorcycle, loving the soft vibrations under his palms. Driving at night was the best. No traffic to negotiate, no clouds of exhaust, and there was something beautifully simplistic about the landscape of a city, town, or countryside illuminated by nothing but the moon, stars, or muted streetlights. Better yet was getting lost. He was free on his bike—from the monotony of bills, people, and the lousy day job. Free of the boring. Free of everyone’s expectations. On his bike, he could write his stories. For a few hours every night, wishes came true, and he became the hero. Always entertaining, even if they only existed inside his head.

He followed the long country highway into the small town of Rosendale, where he slowed his speed from a comfortable 60 to a rolling 30 mph. A large wooden sign welcomed him, followed by a “Go Cardinals” sign on the small high school he passed, and a camera image warning drivers the area was under radar control. Tiny houses with low sloping lawns littered the single main street, and all was quiet, save for the bark of an agitated dog.

The town was abandoned recently for reasons unknown. But in the dark, at night, you wouldn’t think it…

Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a slow roll of thunder, as Richard came to a lonely stop light. No cars passed in either direction and the wait dragged. Just as the...