Inevitable Street

Inevitable Street, a short story

Cars rushed past the now green light, businessmen carrying jet black leather suitcases darted across the street, and Joe sat on his bike and wondered where they were all going so fast.  He watched as the zebra herd of suit adorned men blended together in the overcrowded streets of Fatum, a bustling city of saints and sinners alike. Joe revved the engine of his time-rusted Harley impatiently, he glared at the red traffic light, which was only there to waste his precious time. Late to his internship, again, he wondered if all of this work was worth it. A college student, 29,800 dollars in debt already, who worked as an unpaid intern at WWM (World Wide Motors), and still lived with his mom. He took the depressing thoughts on a tangent, fantasizing of life on a yacht and replacing his mom with a nice girl who’s a little easier on the eyes. 

Still stuck in his delirious thought, he didn’t notice the light flash green. A navy-blue semi-truck honked relentlessly, threatening to flatten his motorbike and turn him into a pancake with it. The truck started to move, and it inched closer to Joe, who was completely oblivious to the murderous engine that stared at him with vile intent. He felt the heat of Hell behind him. Joe turned, and all he could see was the front bumper of the semi-truck. As he let out a horrified shriek, he swerved to the sidewalk.

The truck disappeared.

Shaken from fear and the sudden adrenaline rush, he took a second to recompose himself and calm his nerves. The car next to him barked at him to get moving. Angrily, the driver punched their steering wheel until Joe had fully moved out of the way of the old Ford. He finally pulled his wheel from the side of the road and pushed his bike up the sidewalk. The Ford passed, flipping the bird, and drove away. Joe scowled then walked to work.

He tried to recall the logo on the side of the truck, but his mind seemingly blocked out any vital details from his near-death experience. All he could see in his tightly shut eyes were the blue of the truck’s front. Startled, he did his best to forget the truck, which was then gone with the wind, and moved on. 

Now he walked, trudging along the path, to the jail of a workplace he went to every other weekday. Still frightened from that morning’s disaster, he fell into a routine. He counted his steps in his head, One, two, three, four... 

He had counted his steps so many times before, that he knew when he could see the front side of his office building. Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, and...there it is!

He saw the sign, gray and worn, of his towering company building, a shining beacon of money for the average and greed-driven CEO. The letters, green and bolded, on the sign, read:

World Wide Motors®️
“We’ll take you around the World!”©
Eco-friendly since 2013
Est. 1994
   
Joe, a ghost of his personality, floated through his day like a half-inflated helium balloon. Nothing of importance happened during the day, there was nothing but his own imagination. He recounted the truck from that morning. Blue and big, tinted windows and apparently no driver. There were no advertisements on the side or back of the truck… 
   
Then, as if hit him against the head with a lightbulb, he remembered the faces of those around him. 

There was someone in that car next to me… What did he look like? What was he doing? C’mon Joe, c’mon… He was bald! And he had glasses and was driving an old red Ford. Did he look confused? Confused and startled. Was he just as afraid of the truck as me?
   
Then his overactive imagination took him into a deep spiral of self doubt, a rabbit hole of made-up demons and terrors.

What if he wasn’t startled by the truck, what if it was me? Thinking of it now, was there even a truck? There were people on the sidewalk and in their cars, but no one asked me if I was alright. Is that normal? What if I’m going-
   
Brring! Brring! A sudden blaring of his high pitched phone interrupted his thoughts, like cutting a tight string ready to snap. He reached for the phone in one quick swoop and immediately regretted answering. 
   
“Joe? It’s mom, you didn’t take your medicine today. Are you ok?”
  
  “I’m fine, I don’t need that stuff,” Joe hissed at his mom, uncaringly and cruel.