When you have a car that's old enough to have miles under it's belt, but not too old that the repairs are getting costly, it can be easy to think that that car can go on forever. Can be difficult to imagine that one day the will become un-drivable. You think: "All i need to do is change the oil every five thousand miles, drain and fill the transmission fluid every 30 thousand miles, change the tires and brakes once in a while... and I should be able to drive this thing forever."
Cars don't last forever. Eventually something or enough things break down that are too costly or annoying to repair. Maybe his life had gone that way, Marc thought.
Six months he'd stayed at that church. On afternoons when there wasn't much volunteering needed of Marc, he'd sit there in the quiet and begin to realize how he had ended up here. He had been on his way to . On the trail of that waitress from the . Linda.
On the road. Late at night. It had been one of those road trips. Not the kind you leave before lunch with a full bag of snacks and a thermos of coffee. But one where he left as the sun was already going down. He'd been so damn tired. No places accepted cash. Somehow he'd made his way to this church. And now half a year had passed.
On this particular afternoon there wasn't much going on at the church. There was usually not much going on. Even when there was something going on, Marc had found the stimuli to be manageable. The music was never too loud or provocative. Same with the conversations. Marc could smile and tend to the needs of the church members in a satisfactory manner.
He was probably doing a good enough job on this day as well. He didn't need to do much other than smile and answer questions. Sometimes he'd need to provide feedback in order to let the person know he was paying attention. Today he was struggling with these tasks. He couldn't stop thinking about the headline he had seen the night before as he was scrolling through his timeline in bed.
"Body of missing 27 year old woman from Gas City identified in Westcity."
Cars don't last forever. Eventually something or enough things break down that are too costly or annoying to repair. Maybe his life had gone that way, Marc thought.
Six months he'd stayed at that church. On afternoons when there wasn't much volunteering needed of Marc, he'd sit there in the quiet and begin to realize how he had ended up here. He had been on his way to . On the trail of that waitress from the . Linda.
On the road. Late at night. It had been one of those road trips. Not the kind you leave before lunch with a full bag of snacks and a thermos of coffee. But one where he left as the sun was already going down. He'd been so damn tired. No places accepted cash. Somehow he'd made his way to this church. And now half a year had passed.
On this particular afternoon there wasn't much going on at the church. There was usually not much going on. Even when there was something going on, Marc had found the stimuli to be manageable. The music was never too loud or provocative. Same with the conversations. Marc could smile and tend to the needs of the church members in a satisfactory manner.
He was probably doing a good enough job on this day as well. He didn't need to do much other than smile and answer questions. Sometimes he'd need to provide feedback in order to let the person know he was paying attention. Today he was struggling with these tasks. He couldn't stop thinking about the headline he had seen the night before as he was scrolling through his timeline in bed.
"Body of missing 27 year old woman from Gas City identified in Westcity."