3 views
The Diner
First there was a bang, then the car started to pull too the right. Lastly the sickening ‘flap, flap’ sound confirming to Mitch Hastings that he had just experienced a tyre blowout.
The light blue 1954 Buick Skylark limped to the side of the highway and stopped. Mitch thumped the steering wheel in totally frustration.
He was travelling alone along the Will Rogers Highway more popularly known as Route 66 when the incident occurred. Mitch had such high hopes for his mid-life crisis. He had spent the best part of a year restoring the old Buick back to its formal glory and was looking forward to being out with it on the open road.
Mitch got out of the car and went around to see the shredded white-wall tyre. He gave it another kick. He knew he carried a spare wheel at the same time knowing he was lacking the appropriate wheel irons and jack.
Mitch dug deep into the pocket of his denim pants to retrieve his cell. The signal didn’t even register one bar. He cursed out loud while giving the tyre a further kick.
He looked down at his wrist watch, it had just past midday and the sun overhead in the Arizona desert was at its highest. Even though Peach Springs was only a few miles south, in this sun without protection and water Mitch would soon find himself in serious trouble. It looked like he'd have no choice but to sit in his car out of the sun and wait for a passing vehicle. Except this part of Route 66 was the historical road which meant that only travellers wanting to visit the old towns would drive by here.
Approximately, half-an-hour had passed and there had not been a single vehicle. Desperately, Mitch looked out once onto the deserted highway. This time, unexpectedly, he saw what looked like a building up ahead shimmering in the heat haze.
He stepped out on to the roadside shielding his eyes from the sun. Indeed, up ahead of him was what looked like a diner! It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Mitch rubbed his eyes, how come he didn’t notice it at first when he...
The light blue 1954 Buick Skylark limped to the side of the highway and stopped. Mitch thumped the steering wheel in totally frustration.
He was travelling alone along the Will Rogers Highway more popularly known as Route 66 when the incident occurred. Mitch had such high hopes for his mid-life crisis. He had spent the best part of a year restoring the old Buick back to its formal glory and was looking forward to being out with it on the open road.
Mitch got out of the car and went around to see the shredded white-wall tyre. He gave it another kick. He knew he carried a spare wheel at the same time knowing he was lacking the appropriate wheel irons and jack.
Mitch dug deep into the pocket of his denim pants to retrieve his cell. The signal didn’t even register one bar. He cursed out loud while giving the tyre a further kick.
He looked down at his wrist watch, it had just past midday and the sun overhead in the Arizona desert was at its highest. Even though Peach Springs was only a few miles south, in this sun without protection and water Mitch would soon find himself in serious trouble. It looked like he'd have no choice but to sit in his car out of the sun and wait for a passing vehicle. Except this part of Route 66 was the historical road which meant that only travellers wanting to visit the old towns would drive by here.
Approximately, half-an-hour had passed and there had not been a single vehicle. Desperately, Mitch looked out once onto the deserted highway. This time, unexpectedly, he saw what looked like a building up ahead shimmering in the heat haze.
He stepped out on to the roadside shielding his eyes from the sun. Indeed, up ahead of him was what looked like a diner! It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Mitch rubbed his eyes, how come he didn’t notice it at first when he...
