On the Road - A Non-Warcraft Short Story

This is a story I wrote in about 1 1/2 hours yesterday. I will probably turn it into a short film. Tell me if you like it and understand it.


A young man is ambling down a lonely one lane road. The first echoes of light hang suspended in the cobwebs of the morning fog gathering in fields on either side of the road. Everything is still and quiet in anticipation, preparation for a new day. The silence is broken only by the man's soft footsteps on the road. He is dressed in worn jeans and a faded yellow t-shirt. His pace is calm and un-urgent. Tightening the straps on his backpack he tramps slowly onward. Through the fog on one side of the road, nearly hidden in a ring of trees he sees a farmhouse, the windows just lighting up for a new day. Everyone is at home asleep still. He has been walking since dark. Wandering past the gravel driveway and a leaning mailbox, his steady gaze turns upward. The sky is a warm purple. A bird darts across from one tree to another. A new day has begun.
Around a bend in the road, something makes a loud screech and then a crashing noise. The sound of a car engine whines, trying to start. As the man rounds the turn a car door slams and a rather large man walks to the front of his truck which rests on three wheels in a gulley, the back left wheel raised high in the air. The young man approaches the wreck. The owner of the truck kicks the front fender and curses. His polished black shoes now muddied, he yanks the driver's side door open and hits his head on the top of the doorway as he reaches inside. He is dressed in a black business suit, on his way to work. The younger man reaches the suspended back corner of the truck and says in a calm voice, “Need any help?�
The other man pulls himself out of the truck hitting his head again on its ceiling. His face is red and his eyes bright and fiery. In a whining, angry voice he mutters, “No.�
Turning back to the truck he curses it again as he presses buttons with his thumb on his cell phone. Pressing it to his ear he anxiously looks over at the younger man. “Got the time?� he whispers, impatiently tapping his wrist.
The younger man shakes his head no. Still standing by the end of the truck he puts his hands in his pockets and watches the man on the cell phone. The man turns back to the truck and looks up. The sky is deep muted blue. An airplane is arcing high above. The man begins talking on the phone. His face gets redder and yells into the tiny phone, “Thirty minutes! I can't wait that long, I need to be pulled out of here now.�
Sighing he listens to someone jabber on for about a minute on the other end. He turns the phone off and throws it back into the truck. He stands there looking down at his shoes and curses again. Then he looks at the young man. His face is no longer red, he looks very tired now, his shoulders slope and his face hangs in a frown. Suddenly he grunts, “Who are you?�
The young man replies, “Daren Kidds, and you?�
The other man doesn't reply but walks over and sits down on the other side of the ditch. He rubs his eyes with his hands and stares down dejectedly. Daren still stands by the end of the truck, his hands in his pockets.
“I'm going to be late for work,� the other man mutters to himself. “Late for work. Screw promotions.�
His speech became inaudible and then he fell silent. He glares back over at the truck, “I just bought that heap of junk…�
“Are you sure you don't need help?� Daren asks.
Staring down at his muddy suit, the man curses again and says, “Now I have to go home and get a new suit. It'll be noon before I get to the office.�
Finally hearing what Daren asked, he responds with a simple no. Turning from the wreck, Daren walks back up to the road. Leaving the upended truck behind him he continues down the road.
Walking around another bend in the road the truck is hidden from view and he looks down the unchanging black line weaving its way through the green forests and fields. Gazing off in thought, he keeps walking. Walking and thinking. Not going any where, just looking out across the dawn on the fields, thinking.

I really like this, its written well and it's got really good imagery. Good job!

Very nice writing. Very.. aesthetic. I like the descritions, short but strong in feelings.
I think I understand the story... and I like it. A lot. I wish you good luck for the film..

this could prove to be a nice short film, reminds me of a scene from another short film in which i was in. only the whole walking down road thing was far different (primium non nocre i do beleive was the title) ah well thats my babling done.

good job. no nerd rating for you.