John was a peculiar man, he obsessed over the smallest of things but more importantly he was practically afraid of everything. If he saw his own shadow in the right light he would jump from fright, when it came to insects he would rather leave his home for a hotel rather than trying to deal with them and scary movies; well he felt as if he never had the need to see any. Though the thing that terrified John the most were strangers, to him the idea of someone unknown interacting with him seemed a bit dangerous and unnecessary. John watched the news day in and day out he would see just how much society had collapsed under it’s own morality, he felt no connection to his peers and just wanted to be left alone. This is why he worked the graveyard shift at some factory in the middle of nowhere, all he had to do was push several buttons every few hours as the midnight oil drained. The only interaction he ever had was with the security guard at the gate, an overweight man that had very little interest in conversing with John; something he relished. At the end of each shift he would drive home in the dark secluded interstate, while the world slept he would have the road to himself, there was only one problem; John suffered from intense anxiety from the idea of one day being pulled over by the police. He’d seen enough of segments on the news of some poor guy being harassed by law enforcement or even worse, not that John was a criminal by any means but having a stranger pull you over in the middle of the night with all the authority to do whatever they wanted with you; haunted Johns thoughts.
So every night as John headed out of the gate from work and merged onto the isolated interstate; he would take a deep breath and repeat a little prayer to himself hoping the roads would remain empty. He knew he just needed to make it to the West Gate bridge; it was his exit and his home was merely a block away. This became part of his ritual, leave work say his little prayer and do his best to make it to the bridge. As soon passing it he would sigh in relief, returning home to his much desired solitude.
Not every night did John remain alone on the quiet road, at times there would be other motorist; usually speeding past him. Whenever another vehicle would present itself John would slow down by design hoping to draw as much distance…
