Drive: A Short Story

theres a homeless man that live on the streets of DC, he had nothing and no where to go. one day he thought to himself, i want to do better but he didn't know where to start. i had met him on a school event called YSOP and we worked out in Washington DC homeless kitchen. Watching him for the next three days opened my eyes and showed me that if you really want something you have to motivate yourself cause sometime no one will.

After work, Beau goes home and changes out of his red Hannafords polo shirt then gets into his old run down grey Toyota Camry. The engine makes a few loud puffs but starts up like usual. On his way to John’s house, he already begins to get a little nervous. Not only does he already have trouble talking with girls but he’s never really met either of the new actresses before, and Rosemary made him feel something he’d never felt before. It’s as if he wanted to see her again, but at the same time was too afraid to speak to her. Either way the meeting was set in place and he just kept telling himself “It’s strictly professional. It’ll be fine.” Beau arrives and turns the knob of the door leading into the small kitchen area of John’s house.

Ring Ring.Ring Ring. I awoke from my nap.Being Mayor of Fakersville isn't Easy.Creak.The Oldest door in the oldest building in the town Made that sound Every Time it Opened. “Mr Wilson,Someone is Calling You.” That is My secretary Jade. She is a little off. Something is just wrong with her.Something is Wrong with this whole town. It just isint normal.As I slowly pick up the phone wondering what incident happened now This Is the voice I hear. “Mr.Wilson,We need you down here right now boss.” “What happened Steven?” “Just Get down To Highway 92.” Steven is are Chief of A police. He’s not really good but he is the only one I got.But anyways let’s get back to the story.Great I thought. Another accident to make this town look

Around the time I was getting settled into sophomore year at Memorial, I got my driver’s license. The freedom of driving alone was awesome but having my license was beneficial since I had an off-campus practice for the golf team nearly every day. At first, you could say I was a little bit paranoid because I was inexperienced and I was driving a nice truck which was my first car. Eventually, I felt more relaxed and I started to gain confidence behind the wheel. This false sense of confidence caused the biggest and definitely the most expensive mistake I have made in my entire life.

It was a story, Cassidy wasn’t sure she knew how to tell, but once she got into it the meat of the tale just started coming to her. She explained how she was cleaning up at her uncle Giorgio’s barber shop and out came Phillip’s outburst with the razor, the turning of a solid, hard stone into crumbly ash after zapping it with some weird gizmo Inez had created, the recorded data on his computer, and of course, her time she’d spent with the volunteers in their world. Cassidy spoke of all of these things articulately and as concisely pointedly as a college professor as she felt more at

After listening to all her neighbors’ problems one day, she cries for Jim’s reassurance that they are happy and content. She tells Jim that, "Mrs. Hutchinson’s mother is dying of cancer," and "Mr. Hendricks is going to lose his job in April" (822). She wants Jim to reassure her that their life is not like their neighbors, so she asks Jim, "And we’re not hypercritical or worried about money or dishonest, are we?" (823). He lies and says that they are not, but indeed they are.

The air is so thick with anticipation that it seems to weigh our voices to all but a whisper. Our heads turned outward, eyes open and wanting, searching for a place to settle on the fast moving terrain. The road ahead stretches on for miles, disappearing little by little under our feet at a pace that seems like walking. The time on the clock seems to strain each minute, trying to hold on to the present as long as possible; so slowly it changes, one might think it to be broken. The walls around our bodies seem to close in with every mile, driving us closer to each other ‘till our shoulders brush in rhythm with the bumps on the highway. Slowly, as time moves on, the miles melt away and our voices begin to rise; pushing the stuffy air away and

The town is behind me, the skeletal outline of the Abbey brooding over the streets sloping down to the harbour, and I can hear the waves breaking onto the beach below the road. The wavering halos around the streetlights beckon me on, and I drink as I walk, head back and greedy. Cars pass – a moment of light and noise, a memory of warmth, and then I’m alone with my bottle and the stutter of my heels on the pavement. Ellie was right; I’d needed to get away from being watched and fussed over. The blare of a horn jolts me out of my trance; I’d wandered into the middle of the road. I stay where I am, defiant and reckless, and lift the bottle in a toast to the disappearing car, and to freedom. I’ve been given a reprieve, released from the burden of love, and I celebrate by finishing the last of the wine, tipping most of it down the front of my

I get it. You’re a busy guy, with places to go and things to do. That doesn’t change the fact though that you got to the intersection ages after me, and I’ve waited patiently for my turn to go. I too have places to go and things to do, all of which would have been placed on hold had I not developed a cynical anxiety at 4 way stops from previous experiences. So instead of getting where I need to go quickly and efficiently, I have to stop and wait for you to drive past with a disgusted look on your face, wondering why on Earth I would try to take my turn. I don’t know, maybe you think you want a dent in the side of your car matching the one on the side of mine. I’m personally not too fond of the questions from nervous passengers, but maybe that’s

The car engine had a steady hum as I waited for my dad to enter the driver's seat. My sister-in-law was only eight months pregnant so I felt something was wrong when I was picked up early from school. The car ride to the hospital was the loudest silence I have ever heard. The sound of the wind as we flew down the winding highway was as loud as a train whistle. The sight of a gargantuan building protruding in the distance meant we were to arrive soon.

I crawled out from under my bed and followed him downstairs. He stood at the window and we watched as the people in our street went about their daily business. Miss Maudie was attending to her azaleas, Mr Avery was sitting on his porch, and we could see Jem and Scout playing in their

“Oh boy,” I sighed “It’s gotten late, I have to go.” The clock on the wall said it was one forty and I still had to make my way across town to meet old Sally Hayes. I wish I wasn’t though, Annie seemed a lot more interesting and all. “I have this date with some girl across town, nothing fun or anything, I was bored when I made it.” We both stood up and got our

My legs are growing weak and my body feels like a weight. I have been walking for hours now and have not taken any time to stop and rest. The thought of me getting back to the highway, back to civilization, is the only thing that keeps me going on this long journey. Every step I took through that river against that huge current took a huge tole on me. I can’t wait to see the faces that I have left behind on my journey. Just the thought of seeing them again gives me the strength to keep moving and to get out of these woods. I’m so overwhelmed with excitement but at the same time I have a part of me that is nervous. I keep thinking about the same questions over and over. What am I going to say to everyone that I have left behind? What are their reactions going to be like? A few hours later I made it onto the highway and within ten minutes I hitched a long ride with a trucker who was going to Montana. He said he could drop me off in South Dakota at a bus stop and so I hopped in and we went on a long drive together. I didn’t really talk a lot and neither did he. We both seemed to be in our own little world with no distractions. I was to mesmerized by the beauty of the Alaskan wilderness which I had stayed in for months. While on the road I saw a lot of new construction sites for roads and buildings. I had no idea what I had missed out on while I was out there on that abandoned bus without any communication. I wonder what I have missed… there were sites where parts of the Alaskan

Traveling from the Desert to Snow“Ham and egg, time to go!” says my dad. This is my wakeup call at three-fifteen in themorning. The yellow moving truck is already loaded in the driveway. I roll off the air mattress in my soon to be old room, stumble into the bathroom to partake in my morning relief. When I exit the bathroom to see my brother, eyes barely open. “Good morning” I say. He groans, as usual. I get dressed, comfortably, being prepared for a fourteen hour drive. Everybody is all set to makethe journey up north as a family. My parents, my twin brother and our two dogs. This trip is notexciting beyond all means because I have to leave my freshman year of high school mid-year tolive in a place I barely remember. Little did I know I

A broken dying man, driven by sorrow and hope, and the father of a lone child, both lost in this apocalyptic world called The Road. The man, or Papa, as he is called in the story by his son, is the main character in The Road. He is a father of a young boy who has been thrust into this new world of carnage and death. The young boy has never known about the world we see all around us. Everything the Papa says is merely a story of a past long forgotten and discarded by most. Everything the boy has known in this current life is summed up in a few words, hope, hunger, and distrust. The Papa is the guide for his son leading and protecting him from the many nightmares that walk the living daylight, and prowl in the sleeping silence of the night.