There was darkness all around him. Darkness, that would only be mildly interrupted by the lights of the occasional car that would pass by. Chief Inspector Mark Collinsworth kept his eyes on the road. Though where his mind was, even he didn't know. In a way the journey on this lost highway wasn't too different from the one he had undertaken long ago- been thrust into, he would sometimes think - the journey of his life. He was used to the darkness that enveloped everything around him. Darkness that wouldn't go away. Once in a while a ray of light would pierce through this dark cloak, only to struggle against its interwoven fabric that seemed intent on never letting go of him. Eventually that ray of light too would give up and go away, someplace else, where it had a chance. And all that would be left was silence. Gloom. Life. Or so they called it. He didn't know.
Yet, Mark liked the darkness that was keeping him company on this lost highway. He liked to see on the outside what he felt on the inside. It made him feel one with his surroundings. It gave him a sense of belonging. It comforted him in a weird sort of way. It let him blend in, yet escape at the same time. Lost in thought, yet tranquil, Mark wondered when would the road next take a turn.
Making his way along that winding road up the hill, his eyes caught a glimpse of the mayhem just beginning to unfold in the valley down below. Summer was in full earnest and that night was one of the hottest he'd experienced in all of the years he'd spent living atop the monolith they called Mount Vitriol. Forest fires were a regular occurrence this time of the year. The ravine glowed in some pockets, like fireflies milling about in the dark. The smell of cinder filled the air.
Yeah, Mark liked seeing on the outside what he felt on the inside.
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