Hitchhiker
“Ran away?” the driver asked.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off but he was kind enough to give me a ride.
I nodded.
“Have you found salvation?” he asked. The speedometer quivered to ninety-five.
“What the fuck…” I reached for the door but his heavy fist collided with my jaw.
“It’s alright, son.” His eyes were vulturine, burning with zeal as he blabbered something about the Lord and lost sheep. “I’ve come to take you home…”
Then I noticed the rosary made of fine hair and deciduous teeth and a shiny plastic crucifix dangling from the rearview mirror.