Day One: Saturday, October 1st
Bones found a remains of an old, rusty Cadillac DeVille that may have been black at one point in its life. It had been sitting alone amidst towers of scrap metal and junk, completely separated from the rest of the, perhaps poorly named, Boneyard. He found it just after he and Roach had talked about going on their road trip to see the tree at the center of the world, almost as if it had been waiting to be found for that very purpose. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bones started fixing the old car up. He wasn?t an expert, though, and in fact, he knew next to nothing about cars aside from where you put the gas and the key, but through some miracle of luck, he got the old bastard running. It rumbled and sputtered and groaned and he worried that it might die on him if he took it too far, but, a voice in the back of his head said:
?Hey, man. It?s alright. Just be chill. You can trust me.?
And because Bones was usually fucked up on some kind of pill or drug, he assumed that the voice was his own, and if there was anyone in this world he trusted, it was definitely himself. So, he took it out for a spin.
He was idling outside the Red Dragon Inn one night with his old rust bucket of a car and tapping away at his phone, muttering at how small the buttons were. He finally, successfully, fired of a text to Roach.
Hey kid, I?m outside the inn. Get your ass out here. We?re going on a road trip.
Then, he waited, listening to the engine rumble and shudder occasionally, and smiled. He liked the car, he decided that he?d keep it when all was said and done. If it didn?t blow up on him halfway to the tree.
?You?ll be good to me though, won?t you?? he asked, patting the dash affectionately. ?We only just started this relationship of ours, it?d be a shame if you were to cut out on me before we reached the end.?
And then, waiting, he took out his notepad and started to write about doors.
Bones found a remains of an old, rusty Cadillac DeVille that may have been black at one point in its life. It had been sitting alone amidst towers of scrap metal and junk, completely separated from the rest of the, perhaps poorly named, Boneyard. He found it just after he and Roach had talked about going on their road trip to see the tree at the center of the world, almost as if it had been waiting to be found for that very purpose. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bones started fixing the old car up. He wasn?t an expert, though, and in fact, he knew next to nothing about cars aside from where you put the gas and the key, but through some miracle of luck, he got the old bastard running. It rumbled and sputtered and groaned and he worried that it might die on him if he took it too far, but, a voice in the back of his head said:
?Hey, man. It?s alright. Just be chill. You can trust me.?
And because Bones was usually fucked up on some kind of pill or drug, he assumed that the voice was his own, and if there was anyone in this world he trusted, it was definitely himself. So, he took it out for a spin.
He was idling outside the Red Dragon Inn one night with his old rust bucket of a car and tapping away at his phone, muttering at how small the buttons were. He finally, successfully, fired of a text to Roach.
Hey kid, I?m outside the inn. Get your ass out here. We?re going on a road trip.
Then, he waited, listening to the engine rumble and shudder occasionally, and smiled. He liked the car, he decided that he?d keep it when all was said and done. If it didn?t blow up on him halfway to the tree.
?You?ll be good to me though, won?t you?? he asked, patting the dash affectionately. ?We only just started this relationship of ours, it?d be a shame if you were to cut out on me before we reached the end.?
And then, waiting, he took out his notepad and started to write about doors.