Roland took his hand and wiped the moisture from his bedroom window so that he could get a better view of the road that led right to his house. Their house was situated at the end of what his parents used to call a “T-intersection.” He remembered when he would lie in bed at night and watch the light from the headlights of the cars coming along the road toward the intersection. The light, sliced into horizontal lines by the partially open blinds that used to cover his window, would travel up the opposite wall and across ceiling of his room. It was almost hypnotic and the light show put on by the cars’ headlights would help him fall asleep.
Back then there were a lot of cars. But now everyone was gone. He was alone. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last seen a car drive toward his house and watched the horizontal lines travel across his room’s ceiling. Or since he’d last seen another human being.
Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Photo credit: wildverbs.