late night in the parking lot. snow sprinkled all around him, making him clutch at himself for warmth. beyond, past and through the buildings, the darkness elongated forever. it was supposed to be a short jaunt.
at both sides of his mind he figured he was nearing the end. only literally, though; metaphor is powerless. and to be frank, he was probably more in the middle of things right now.
something compelled him to turn around. behind him was a car, idling in a different, nearby parking lot, a tall, young-looking man standing next to it, holding something small at about chest level. the headlights were on.
"there will be worse times than this," he yelled at the man. his voice, suddenly lost, dropped to a mere shout. "there have been before." his words echoed back to him, and the voice sounded so unlike his own. for a moment, he wasn’t sure if the man had shouted back, or why; was he mocking him? agreeing with him?
he was all alone. he didn’t know if that was true.