Just another guy on the lost highway

It was another long evening of anger, dismay and stern words. He was tired of it. He was certain she that she was tired of it too. He dragged himself off to bed in another room. This happened on many nights, but tonight it felt different. As he lay there, his mind raced. The ongoing misery was like an anvil on his chest.

He wasn’t much for praying, but talking to her ended up just being words hanging aimlessly in the air before crashing to the floor. So he threw some words upward into the humid evening.

“God, show me a sign. Give me some indication of what to do. Anything.” It wasn’t poetic; in fact, it wasn’t much more of anything except real. It certainly didn’t feel very pious.

Thunder rumbled far off in the distance. Other than that the house was quiet. The air hung heavy outside the windows like an invisible wet blanket. Streetlight through the curtains cast dancing shadows from tree limbs that began to sway more frequently.

The storm was getting closer. Lightning splashed more shadows in through the window. The thunder got louder. He paid all of this no mind as he was still occupied with the tension. He thought endlessly about the tilted and cracked structure that he helped to build, and was now a co-conspirator in its beheading. He didn’t want to be part of it, but he was.

Outside, the thunder, flashes of lightning and increasing rain were growing more chaotic. Just like on the inside.

He pondered sending a few more thoughts heavenward. His mind alternated between racing and silence as he hoped sleep would come, even with the crashing both outside and in.

Suddenly, one of the largest cracks he had even heard snapped down. A bolt crashed into something, he didn’t know what for sure but it shook the house and made the entire dwelling feel like it taken two steps east. A burning smell wafted up the steps.

They each got to the top of the stairs at the same time. Their eyes met.

A sign.