It seemed impossible – incredible, even – but George couldn’t deny it anymore. After seven miles and on three different roads, this was the fourth time he’d seen the exact same man walking along the road, with the same blonde hair, and wearing the same bomber jacket with plaid shirt tails sticking out at the bottom. George wanted to keep driving, to out-run the strange apparition. But after another mile, at the end of which he saw the hitchhiker again, George gave in. Resigned and afraid, he slowed his car to a stop. In silence, the stranger threw his duffle bag in the backseat and climbed into the seat beside George. He brought the scent of sulfur with him. As the car pulled back onto the road, the stranger turned to him, eyes glowing, and said, “Well George, I think it’s about time we had a talk about your soul.”
Behold Your QueenMorgan Maria D'Isidoro has lived in Baltimore, MD for most of her life, saving a handful of failed escape attempts. Given the murder rates, she'll probably die here too. Morgan is a writer of speculative fiction and poetry, a musician of dubious quality, cat aficionado, art history fangirl, kitchen sorceress, pyromaniac, accomplished liar, and an all around person of questionable employability.
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