Another Lonely Road
One Shot
I’d lost count of how long I’d been sat here.
The seemingly endless expanse of the Pacific Coast Highway trailed off, melting into the darkening horizon. A gentle humming shook the seats slightly, the engine rocking the vehicle. The confined space was packed, every seat holding an occupant. All except the one next to me.
The stranger who had become my travelling partner had been picked up at the last truck stop, leaving me with more leg room and an unfortunate lack of company. He’d been an elderly old man who’d rambled on about the LA Lakers for what seemed like forever, but it’d helped take my mind off the time. Now he was gone, time seemed to be the only thing I could think of.
I tried to occupy myself by looking through the glass, but it made me feel as though I was an animal on display at the zoo, a travelling sideshow to amaze and astound. There were trickles and droplets scattered across the transparent barrier, which was unusual considering my current location. I’d watched the light shower, focussing on the spray as it tumbled from the sky, catching the dying rays of the day and reflecting little rainbows in all directions.
Now that distraction had been and gone, my mind trailed back to the person I was so anxious to see.
I wondered silently to myself if he was still the same. He had a habit of changing his hairstyle a lot, sporting the spots of a dalmation when I last saw him, white blonde with patches of black. His hazel eyes always held a degree of softness, and there was a look he reserved just for me. I knew, although thousands of girls across the globe pined to be with him, dreamed about him and wanted to be his; he assured me that I was his only one. Jonathan Seward, known more collectively as Johnny Christ, was mine.
No matter what changes he’d gone through since we parted, he’d still be the same height as me. A chuckle escaped my lips as I thought back on the endless parade of jokes fired at us by our friends, who I also missed more than I could express. Each of them with their distinct personality traits, no two the same. I loved them all, and it was a shame we all saw so little of each other. Their passion was music, and it took them all over the world. They chased their dreams and I was immensely proud of all five of them.
My thoughts drifted off as the space enclosed me in perpetual darkness, save for the acidic glow of another passengers overhead reading light, glaring garishly from further down the aisle. The coach rocked ever so slightly, moving in time with the engine. Most people found this relaxing, yet it made me feel ill. It reminded me a lot of feeling seasick, although we were driving down a solid road. The motion reminded me of the rolling waves of the ocean, which in turn set off a small pang of homesickness.
Luckily this was the final leg of my journey. I’d already travelled so far, and knowing my voyage was to soon come to an end only made time move slower. I’d watched each road sigh with precision, calculating the miles until we reached our final destination.
The static of the driver microphone had me sitting bolt upright in my seat, inclining my head towards the front of the bus as a cheery voice travelled across the intercom, “We will be arriving at Huntington coach station momentarily. Reminders for passengers to take all possessions with you as you leave the vehicle. On behalf of Coach American, we hope you have a pleasant and safe journey home.”
I was out of my seat with my rucksack in hand before the brakes had screeched the vehicle to a halt. I earned a disapproving look from an elderly lady as I fidgeted from one foot to another, waiting anxiously for the door to open. It seemed an age before the gentle hiss of the hinges reached my ears, the barrier between me and the outside world cracking open and taking its own bittersweet time. As soon as it was open far enough for me to squeeze through, I shot from the enclosed tin can on wheels like a bullet.
Other passengers who weren’t so eager to get off traipsed out at a gentle pace, looking around for loved ones and family members. Others huddled around the baggage collection area, waiting to be reunited with their cases.
Children ran around the station, into the arms of relatives they hadn’t seen for countless amounts of time. Parents enfolded grown up offspring, who were back from their travels or collage. Lovers embraced one another lovingly and I watched them, a small ache in my own chest as I hurriedly looked around for my own beau.
“Looking for someone?”
I knew that voice. It was the sound that had my heart skipping a beat, the noise that instantly turned a smile from a frown. I turned on my heel and came face to face with the speaker. He looked exactly the same as I’d last seen him, a time that seemed like eons ago, yet in reality was a few short months.
“Still haven’t grown then?” I chuckled, a grin broadening on my face. He pouted at me before opening his arms, ready to accept me.
I’d never been one for clichés, but as he smiled at me and strode forward, time seemed to slow down. The entire scene shifted and distorted, and it was only me and him. All other noises melted into one another and disappeared, and it was silent.
He wrapped me in his tight and loving embrace, trailing feather light kisses across my lips and cheeks; and I knew I was home at last.
The seemingly endless expanse of the Pacific Coast Highway trailed off, melting into the darkening horizon. A gentle humming shook the seats slightly, the engine rocking the vehicle. The confined space was packed, every seat holding an occupant. All except the one next to me.
The stranger who had become my travelling partner had been picked up at the last truck stop, leaving me with more leg room and an unfortunate lack of company. He’d been an elderly old man who’d rambled on about the LA Lakers for what seemed like forever, but it’d helped take my mind off the time. Now he was gone, time seemed to be the only thing I could think of.
I tried to occupy myself by looking through the glass, but it made me feel as though I was an animal on display at the zoo, a travelling sideshow to amaze and astound. There were trickles and droplets scattered across the transparent barrier, which was unusual considering my current location. I’d watched the light shower, focussing on the spray as it tumbled from the sky, catching the dying rays of the day and reflecting little rainbows in all directions.
Now that distraction had been and gone, my mind trailed back to the person I was so anxious to see.
I wondered silently to myself if he was still the same. He had a habit of changing his hairstyle a lot, sporting the spots of a dalmation when I last saw him, white blonde with patches of black. His hazel eyes always held a degree of softness, and there was a look he reserved just for me. I knew, although thousands of girls across the globe pined to be with him, dreamed about him and wanted to be his; he assured me that I was his only one. Jonathan Seward, known more collectively as Johnny Christ, was mine.
No matter what changes he’d gone through since we parted, he’d still be the same height as me. A chuckle escaped my lips as I thought back on the endless parade of jokes fired at us by our friends, who I also missed more than I could express. Each of them with their distinct personality traits, no two the same. I loved them all, and it was a shame we all saw so little of each other. Their passion was music, and it took them all over the world. They chased their dreams and I was immensely proud of all five of them.
My thoughts drifted off as the space enclosed me in perpetual darkness, save for the acidic glow of another passengers overhead reading light, glaring garishly from further down the aisle. The coach rocked ever so slightly, moving in time with the engine. Most people found this relaxing, yet it made me feel ill. It reminded me a lot of feeling seasick, although we were driving down a solid road. The motion reminded me of the rolling waves of the ocean, which in turn set off a small pang of homesickness.
Luckily this was the final leg of my journey. I’d already travelled so far, and knowing my voyage was to soon come to an end only made time move slower. I’d watched each road sigh with precision, calculating the miles until we reached our final destination.
The static of the driver microphone had me sitting bolt upright in my seat, inclining my head towards the front of the bus as a cheery voice travelled across the intercom, “We will be arriving at Huntington coach station momentarily. Reminders for passengers to take all possessions with you as you leave the vehicle. On behalf of Coach American, we hope you have a pleasant and safe journey home.”
I was out of my seat with my rucksack in hand before the brakes had screeched the vehicle to a halt. I earned a disapproving look from an elderly lady as I fidgeted from one foot to another, waiting anxiously for the door to open. It seemed an age before the gentle hiss of the hinges reached my ears, the barrier between me and the outside world cracking open and taking its own bittersweet time. As soon as it was open far enough for me to squeeze through, I shot from the enclosed tin can on wheels like a bullet.
Other passengers who weren’t so eager to get off traipsed out at a gentle pace, looking around for loved ones and family members. Others huddled around the baggage collection area, waiting to be reunited with their cases.
Children ran around the station, into the arms of relatives they hadn’t seen for countless amounts of time. Parents enfolded grown up offspring, who were back from their travels or collage. Lovers embraced one another lovingly and I watched them, a small ache in my own chest as I hurriedly looked around for my own beau.
“Looking for someone?”
I knew that voice. It was the sound that had my heart skipping a beat, the noise that instantly turned a smile from a frown. I turned on my heel and came face to face with the speaker. He looked exactly the same as I’d last seen him, a time that seemed like eons ago, yet in reality was a few short months.
“Still haven’t grown then?” I chuckled, a grin broadening on my face. He pouted at me before opening his arms, ready to accept me.
I’d never been one for clichés, but as he smiled at me and strode forward, time seemed to slow down. The entire scene shifted and distorted, and it was only me and him. All other noises melted into one another and disappeared, and it was silent.
He wrapped me in his tight and loving embrace, trailing feather light kisses across my lips and cheeks; and I knew I was home at last.