“His headlights cut through the fog like… like daggers cutting through… something.”
“What are you doing?”
“Shh! I’m narrating.”
“Uh… why?”
“Because it’s not scary if we’re just sitting here listening to Queen, we need a creepy voiceover.”
“And why is it supposed to be creepy? I thought we were just going to a party.”
“We are, but we’re on highway 174.”
“It looks like a country road.”
“It is but it’s old highway 174. You know, like ye old highway 174. Like the place where that guy died on all Hallows eve- that highway 174!”
“I thought you said that was out at the edge of the county?”
“I did? No- I don’t- I don’t think we’re that far out. We’re just a little off the beaten path.”
“So we’re lost.”
“We’re not lost, we’re just taking a slightly different route at the off chance that we happen to see him- his misty figure floating along the side of the road, ghostly thumb out in the hopes that someone will pick him up and finally put an end to his eternal wandering. Ooo- that’s good.”
“So we’re lost and you’re going to narrate it.”
“We are not lost we’re- ooo! What’s that?”
“What?”
“That shadowy figure over there- could that be…?”
“I think it’s a bush. Wait for it- yep, it’s a bush.”
{grumbling}
“But it was a very dark and shadowy bush, so I can see where you’d be confused.”
“Whatever, Scully!”
“Well, since we’re calling names- Mulder- might I point out that when we did do research we never found any news stories about a hit and run out here and that your urban legend of the ghostly hitchhiker was- you know- disproved.”
“Ok, first of all, it’s not an urban legend if it’s true and secondly the internet wasn’t around back in the 70’s when this guy got hit. Ghosts don’t need the validation of the internet in order to exist.”
“Sigh.”
“Hey, do you want to see this guy or not? Cause I will turn this car right around, young lady!”
“I don’t want to do anything other than to go to the party which is where you claimed we were going before you got lost and tried to cover it up by pretending that you meant to drive us out to the middle of nowhere so we could spend all night doing 25 on backwoods roads looking for ghosts.”
“You’re just no fun at all, are you?”
“I just want to go to the party- it’s getting late and we’re gonna miss the costume contest and-“
“Fine, fine, we’ll go to the party. Jeeze.”
“Thank you! That’s all I ask.”
“We just need to get back onto 202…”
“I’ll look at my phone.”
“We’re not lost!”
“Uh huh, I believe you.”
“Grrr…”
I smiled the whole way through. I've played with abstract narrators, but never people trying to narrate their own existences.
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