The lights from the gas station’s canopy reached out 20 yards before succumbing to darkness. The only other light was the buzzing neon sign that said “open.”
Across the years, I must have appeared to her as a timeless caretaker unchanged. She thought I didn’t age and I was always tall.
The TV said it wasn’t safe outside anymore. We haven’t opened the door since the flash. That was months ago.
Marco’s mother told him never to play by the water.