ConstanceIV
Have you ever stood at the edge of a map and felt the paper give?
One Thursday, Everett folds his life into a duffel, pockets the cash that used to be textbook money, and steps off the edge everyone told him was solid. No compass, no one waiting at the next station.
Somewhere between a broken-down train and the first cheap motel, he learns that "nowhere in particular" is still a place you can arrive at. Every mile west is a new silence to fill. The road offers no epiphanies. Only skies too big to be anyone's, and the slow discovery that purpose can be as small as tomorrow's bus fare and still worth waking up for.
If you've ever left the plan blank on purpose, if you've ever wanted to disappear without vanishing, then his footprints are already next to yours.