Am I horrible because I like truckstop food? I grew up near a truckstop and I loved the food. I could never finish all of it because the portions were always so horribly gigantic, but I still loved it, and I loved going there because I knew all the waitresses. I stopped going when I became a teenager because my sister never let me do the things I wanted to (they were too much of what the losers did, she said, and if I was a loser, so was she. She wouldn't let me be a loser because she didn't want me to be bullied. But in that, she was almost bullying me. I had been bullied before. I didn't mind it. I just like doing my own thing). I went back a few years ago and none of the waitresses remembered me. It was really depressing. I don't live there anymore.
Sorry for that marathon of meaningless words.
I like the way you describe the trucks, almost as if they were living things.
I always thought it would be cool to be a trucker. In Europe or Australia, though. North America is too boring and cold.
Wow. That was wonderful. I loved the imagery and the feeling and everything about this. It just screams Stephen King and I'm in love.
Wow! This was absolutely amazing, and I was scrolling down the page quickly to read every word. This was intense, and your imagery was amazing as well. You described the Devil perfectly to where I could imagine it,and the plot is amazingly unique! Great job!
Am I horrible because I like truckstop food? I grew up near a truckstop and I loved the food. I could never finish all of it because the portions were always so horribly gigantic, but I still loved it, and I loved going there because I knew all the waitresses. I stopped going when I became a teenager because my sister never let me do the things I wanted to (they were too much of what the losers did, she said, and if I was a loser, so was she. She wouldn't let me be a loser because she didn't want me to be bullied. But in that, she was almost bullying me. I had been bullied before. I didn't mind it. I just like doing my own thing). I went back a few years ago and none of the waitresses remembered me. It was really depressing. I don't live there anymore.
Sorry for that marathon of meaningless words.
I like the way you describe the trucks, almost as if they were living things.
I always thought it would be cool to be a trucker. In Europe or Australia, though. North America is too boring and cold.
Wow. That was wonderful. I loved the imagery and the feeling and everything about this. It just screams Stephen King and I'm in love.