The traffic light flashed, red flickering in and out of existence. Hazy end-of-summer heat blanketed the streets, wrapped the town in its heavy grip, and an echoing strain of a horn blared in the distance. The freight train continued on its trip, and the sleepy town remained forgotten by the conductor. The townspeople slept on peacefully in their beds, all preparing for another scorching day in a few hours’ time.

The stretch of darkness - barely interrupted by the handful of street lamps on the corners - was broken by the bright flash of headlights. Red and rusty and somehow managing to stay in one piece, the car didn’t bother slowing down before going through the flashing traffic light, taking the turn much faster than recommended. The brake lights disappeared into the black of night.

Ten miles away, a bed was made, blankets tucked in tight. A note on the pillow was the only thing left behind in the ghost of a disappearance.