The Road Goes Ever On Novels & Stories

“The roads used to lead to sanctuaries.” The lines spread outward. Through Wolf Ridge. Past houses. Past trees. No walls. No doors. No central destination. Evander stared. “They don’t anymore.” Claire looked at Mason. “Where do they lead?” Bramble stepped onto one. His green markings brightened. The silver road answered. Images flashed across its surface. A farmhouse. A city street. A river. A mountain. A tiny cabin. A marketplace. Places. Ordinary places. Theo gasped.

The small vows are the kind of small vows that are in small bags of women in back seats of small cars on the mornings of the days the women the small vows are the small vows of are going to marry the men the small vows are the small vows of. We are on the road. We are on the road of Los Angeles. The road is the kind of road that is in Los Angeles on the mornings of the days the women the roads are the roads of are going to marry the men the roads are the roads of. The road has the small turns. The road has the small stops. The road has the small lights. The road is the kind of road that has the small turns and the small stops and the small lights the way roads in Los Angeles have the small t

"Down the stream,two roads lie ahead ,follow the one on the left.''She said as she disappeared in the trees. ''What does that mean ? ''Isa popped the question. ''I wish I knew better,what do we do Isa ? '' ''Apart from discovering that your father is an asshole .I'm stuck .We better find shelter soon.'' As we got closer to the forest entrance, I could feel the trickle of water,probably the stream that separated our territories.I never got this far after the incident. The river flowed peacefully,the ripples formed by the dragonflies trying to land on the water surface giving a calming effect.The moisture on my cheeks becoming a norm I should get accustomed to. ''What was that the old woman sa

The last thing I heard before the door closed was the whisper of his guitar strings. Killian’s little parable made me paranoid. I tried to put it out of my mind, but it tended to creep back in every time something less-than-perfect happened. And a lot of less-than-perfect things began to happen. You hear musicians talk about the Road, about the toll the Road takes. Back in 1973, Bob Seger wrote a song about it, “Turn The Page,” where his life as a rock star takes on this dark, relentless grind.

I didn’t look back at the high stone walls, and forcing myself not to turn around took far more out of me than the first nine miles of walking did. The Hollow Road winds east between two steep shoulders of hill. It had borne that name since long before anyone thought to write it down in a ledger. Frost crunched inside the deep wagon ruts. Old, dirty ropes of snow lay packed into the ditches. A lone crow tracked my movement for two miles before losing interest and veering off into the trees.

The kind of voice that was made for that moment, when that somebody needed someone to hold onto. “I want you to focus on the road. I’m already moving. How far are you from the Route 9 junction?” I looked up. The junction sign was right there. ahead. “Maybe half a mile.” “Pull over at the junction. At the junction not before. The open ground matters. Do you get it?”

Ten acceptances. Forty days. And two people sitting on a thinking rock in the dark, holding on, the edge of a road stretching out ahead of them into whatever came next. Not a cliff. A road. Always, from now on. A road.

The road stretching north. Empty.

Kept me from feeling the hole opening in my chest. To the womb with legs. Sera's voice. Crystal clear. A dagger in my heart. I pressed the gas harder. The Honda groaned beneath me, old and tired, like me. Forty miles per hour. Fifty. The mountain pass curved ahead, a serpent of asphalt cut into the rock. I'd driven this road a hundred times. I knew every turn, every guardrail, every drop-off where the trees gave way to nothing but air and darkness. Tonight, I didn't care about any of it.

Then he moaned, "Oh yeah...road head...fuckin' love this...just...just like that first time at the movie...or driving to Paige's...or...fuck, that time in my parent's drive...ohhhh...you fucked me over the car...oh god, yessssss!" I kept working his cock, but he kept talking, "Oh...Rob...Rob...keep that up...yeah...yeah...this's our thing!" He laughed a little, "On the road, along the road, road sex is kind of our thing." Then he started singing, "On the road again...just can't wait to get on the road again...again...and again!"