For a while, he just sat there—watching the empty road through his windshield, radio mumbling in the background. His hand tingled now. Or maybe he was imagining it. Either way, the silence from the world outside only made it worse. How could no one be saying anything?
After nearly an hour of waiting, of second-guessing, of staring at his skin until the color started to blur in his vision, Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. He turned the key again and eased the truck back onto the road, heading toward the beach. But the beach was no longer open.