Villain in the Canvas

Prologue

The sea of gravel kept flying into view, tiny brown rocks illuminated for a fleeting moment before plummeting from sight.

This has been going on for the better part of an hour, down a bumpy-poorly-maintained road that seemed to snake around in the same tired patterns. A slight turn to the left, then down, then up and to the right; rinse and repeat.

You're just being impatient. I have to keep reminding you of this before you run us off the road.

"Oh yeah, and why is that such a big fucking deal?" I ask loudly to the empty Festiva interior.

Because you're wasted beyond comprehension so when you do eventually wreck this little clown car of yours, someone will have to come and tow it out for you won't they? Really want to risk if the driver is wearing a mask? Especially when you are not?

That was the voice of reason that loved to emerge at the same moment as my overflowing heat. I loathed its monotone poison lecturing me on how to be a balanced member of society, to deal with life's issues in a calm and collective manner.

"Look who wasn't paying attention. I have two balaclava's, they are just in my bag in the back here.  Besides, if I wreck I'll take the rest by foot. Probably find it quicker anyway."

Just ease up and we will make it, I get how badly you want to run away, even if it is just to be submitted to voluntary torture for the same of experience.

I cut the phantom tone off there, "I am not escaping a damn thing, I promised I would come on this trip so I am going to make it. Besides, in this world all experience is torture.

Right...that's why you need that arsenal of self medications in that pack of yours, for the memories. Or is it because you just need to use anything you can for distraction and numbness?

I force a dismissive laugh in reply, "Maybe I'm just making the most of this opportunity, it is not a chance to forget, just to reset. Now, if you don't mind I would really like to concentrate on the road ahead, like you suggested?"

Perhaps that was enough to shut it but not likely. The road took a sharp curve left and the riding-mower sized tires could keep traction, the bumper just missing a faded leaning ladybug mailbox. The headlights flood the view as my red little clown ride comes to a stop, front tires lower in the shallow ditch. 

Waves of dust fill the lights that illuminate a small yard gnome positioned right in front of a broken down trailer. The condition of the unkept weedy yard and matching pair of torn fabric loungers implied it was home to corpses inside. I could see it now, a couple who listened a little too closely to the advice of Captain Cheeto and drank the bleach to disinfect.

Well, that was morbid and a bit pointless to think about. Why not just assume the house is abandoned or they are away on a trip?

"Because I can make out the shape of a dead pet, dog or cat in the front yard, it looks to have been rotting there for weeks. I don't think the residents took a month-long fantasy cruise and forgot about Fido over there."

Regardless, don't you think you should probably stop in to rest and sober up instead of risking running us into a tree. Besides, once we do get there, the rest will be on foot and you are not walking anywhere in your condition.

Shaking my head, I press my foot back down on the gas and refocus on the winding road ahead.  I was close and could feel it, just another mile on this quickly deteriorating road and I would amongst trees.