“Hey, Sam, let’s head over to Leo’s Tavern out on old route 13 for a few brews,” Zeke said.
“Leo’s ain’t there no more, Zeke,” Sam said.
“What do you mean Leo’s ain’t there no more?” Zeke asked.
“It’s gone!”
“Gone? You mean like gone gone?”
“Totally gone,” Sam said. “There’s even a big sign with the letters G-O-N-E painted on it where the old Leo’s sign used to be.”
“What happened to it?”
“Ever since that new interstate highway opened up,” Sam said, “hardly no one ever goes on old route 13 no more.”
“Damn,” Zeke said.
(100 words)
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Trish Nankivell.
The price of progress.
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Indeed.
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👍
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That was my exact thought.
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Thanks 🙏
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Well, THEY hadn’t helped keep it in business, had they? One didn’t even know it had closed.
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Good point.
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Yes indeed. Those old highways still exist but everyone likes to zoom on the 2 lane + roads these days. I prefer the old highways if I’m not on a schedule, which is all the time since retirement.
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I agree. The backroads are much more enjoyable if, as you say, you’re not on a schedule.
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The old highways have a lot more character than the interstates… I personally don’t like driving that fast crowded by other cars. Great story!
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Thanks. The back roads are almost always more picturesque.
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