Jornada del Muerto
You’d dashed in just before closing, but your temporary license ruined everything. The manager was so sorry but her hands were tied. New state law, apparently. No rental car for you.
“Hey – you need to get to Socorro?”
The younger clerk’s drawl crept out from beneath his generic name tag, hugging you with promise of extrication from the late-night strange-town mire. He threw you another line as you began sinking.
“I could give you a ride. Want a ride?”
Defeated, you held on tightly.
Alison Prelusky has a Master of Arts degree in English from Stony Brook University. She has been a professional copywriter for over a decade, and is making an effort to get back into creative work in her spare time. She lives on Long Island.